


Starlight from the Gutter

by Meddalarksen, victoriousscarf



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: 1920s, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Historical, As of Sept 2017 this story is being edited in an attempt to finish it, Incest, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-25 11:30:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 23
Words: 184,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/638425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meddalarksen/pseuds/Meddalarksen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/victoriousscarf/pseuds/victoriousscarf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once royalty, then a crime empire, the line of Durin now ekes out a living in an old apartment building on the edges of an underworld ready to see them fall.</p><p>Thorin, having seen his grandfather and father killed, has an ever burning desire for vengeance and to see their fortunes restored, while Smaug would prefer to see the job he started decades ago finally finished. Fili, while apperciating his duty to his family, would really rather attend the college classes he pays for and Bilbo Baggins...</p><p>Well he wasn't really expecting any of this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Believe Me, Laddie, You Won't Learn Anything in College

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by Oscar Wilde 
> 
> Basically a 1920s AU, but alternative from history due to trying to incorporate elvish and dwarven etc cultures into the existing history, which changes quite a bit around. A parallel WWI happened, except not quite between the French, British and Germans. Whichever culture the dwarves are, they were on the loosing side of that war. 
> 
> But we're certainly at the 1920s now, with Prohibition, swinging jazz music, and oodles of racism. 
> 
> Research done for this chapter: When surgical tape was invented, the history of the word fuck, and menus from the 1920s.

"You know," Fili said with a frown. "There are times when you really shouldn't actively follow me and how did you even get in here?"

Standing in the corner of the underground speakeasy next to his brother, Kili rolled his shoulders. "I wanted to know what you were doing," he said.

"You do realize we're not tied at the hip, right?" Fili offered weakly and Kili just glared at him. "Uncle is going to kill me."

Hurrying down the stairs after murmuring the password to the man at the door, Bofur ducked into the speakeasy as he pulled his hat lower on his brow.  His gaze darted around the bar and his eyes widened when he spotted Thorin's nephews. He crossed the room to their sides, "What are you two doing here?"

"I was looking for a drink," Fili protested as they both turned toward Bofur.

"I was following him," Kili said looking annoyed by the entire thing.

"What are you doing here?" they asked together, Kili still annoyed and Fili with his arms crossed.

"I was coming down to make sure that none of us were here.  Are you trying to end up dead?" Bofur asked, his accent was growing slightly more pronounced.

The brothers looked sideways at each other. "Not on purpose?" Fili offered.

"Smaug's men were in the area last night, and they're back again tonight.  We need to be gone before they reach here, because I am not quite ready to end in a rain of bullets yet," Bofur said, eyes scanning over the speakeasy to confirm that no one else from their people was there.

"Back door or front door?" Fili asked, snapping suddenly to attention.

"Back's our best route out of here. They use the front door for this speakeasy," he answered, already starting for the back way out.

Shuffling Kili in front of him, who protested quietly at that, Fili kept looking over his shoulder as they moved. "So if Smaug's men have been in the area, what are you doing here?"

"Bifur was supposed to be in the area, listening in for information--people talk more when they think someone can't understand them," Bofur replied by way of explanation.  "He was late getting back, and I was hoping he had just gotten distracted."

"Which he does," Fili tried to assure him. "Do you think he's actually in danger?" he asked, flashing the startled bartender a grin as they barreled past, reaching the stairs leading out the back.

"Bifur's able to take care of himself.  If he can survive that wound of his, he'll be alright," Bofur said, hoping he sounded more confident regarding his cousin than he actually felt.

"Good, because I'm much more worried about us," Kili said, peering around the corner at the top of the stairs, he and his brother having taken them two at a time.

"Brother," Fili admonished. "We can take care of ourselves too."

"Yeah, sure. But, there's, um, people," Kili said, and Fili yanked him back into the stairs to look outside.

Bofur reached under his jacket, resting his hand on the butt of his pistol, "Are we better going through the front?"

"There's only two of them," Fili said, tilting his head. "I'm not even sure they're Smaug's men."

"On the other hand, if they are, it's not like we're unrecognizable," Kili muttered, pulling on the braids Fili had in his hair and Fili glared briefly at him before returning his gaze to the men in the alley.

"And if they are Smaug's and there are others we risk bringing them down on us if we try anything," Bofur swore under his breath, as quietly as possible.

"But if we back track to the front who knows how many will be out there, or if they'll have time to burn the entire place down," Fili said, one hand pulling on the left braid behind his ear, considering it.

"Damned if we do, damned if we don't," Bofur glanced back the way they had come and then toward the back door. "We can take two.  If we catch them off guard, we could maybe even do it quietly."

Fili motioned for Kili to stay back, pulling a knife from the inside of his coat before slipping into the alleyway. Bofur withdrew his gun, holding it loosely on the barrel further up toward the grip--the better to use it as a small club--as he went after Fili.

Managing to get behind the first of the two men, Fili jerked the knife across his throat just as the other turned, bringing his gun up. Dropping down, Fili felt the bullet graze his cheek. Bofur swore, shifting his grip on his gun and firing quickly, even as he ducked behind a couple of trash bins in the alley.

Rolling behind the trashcans, Fili almost collided with Bofur. "Can't you aim?" he hissed.

"I was expecting to be a couple steps closer before I had to fire," Bofur replied in a growl, reminding himself to stick to English as he drew back the hammer on his gun again.  Chancing a glance around the trashcans he ducked back, drew a deep breath and appeared out of cover for an instant to fire, catching the other gunman in the chest that time.

"We need to go, now," Fili said, looking around as Kili ran over to join them, even though he wasn't sure the other was dead.

"Your cheek," Kili started and Fili shook his head.

"Clean it up later," he said, rising from the crouch and inching around the bodies toward the front of the alley. "Come on."

Bofur followed quietly, glancing back down along the alley to make certain they weren't going to be caught unawares from behind.

"What were they doing here anyway?" Kili asked, following closely on his brother's heels.

"Their border isn't that far from here, and they're starting to come further in," Bofur answered.

"If they're so close by, what the hell were the two of you doing here?" Kili asked and Fili just shook his head minutely, turning down another side street and trying to stay away from the main streets as they weaved their way back home

"Not the time to ask questions right now," Bofur responded.

"And there is a time to ask them?" Kili muttered under his breath.

"Not generally," Fili said, pausing at an intersection and looking around to make sure they weren't being followed and there were no suspicious types on the next street. As he considered, his fingers came up to make sure the wound on his cheek wasn't too deep.

Bofur darted a quick glance toward Fili, "You'll be needing to get that cleaned up.  It doesn't look like it went deep at least."

"It's not that bad, I'll get it cleaned up," Fili assured Kili who was looking like he didn't believe his older brother at all. "Kili, it's _fine_."

Huffing, Kili took a deep breath. "Alright. But what are you going to tell uncle?"

Glancing back at Bofur, Fili stopped. "Oh. _Shit_."

"What's he likely to believe?" Bofur asked, looking between the brothers.

"Probably nothing," Fili muttered and Kili laughed, though it sounded slightly hysteric.

"No, he'll only believe the worst possible option and skin you alive."

"You aren't helping," Fili said, eyes snapping over to his brother. "We have the rest of the walk home to figure this out, it'll be okay."

"Did you know Smaug's men were in the area?"  Bofur glanced toward the blond, still on alert.

"You mean, before you showed up?" Fili asked, looking over and one hand covering his cheek. "No, of course not."

"Then tell him that," Bofur advised, with a shrug.  "How responsible are you supposed to be for what you didn't know?"

Both brothers blinked at him. "You've met Thorin, right?" Kili said. "I mean, you have worked under him, yeah?"

"It doesn't matter what I knew, it matters that I should have," Fili shrugged. "Besides, know or not I still got myself injured."

Bofur grimaced at that, shaking his head, "Then I wish you luck in figuring it out."

"Thanks," Fili shook his head. "Maybe I can just avoid him the next three days."

"And Dwalin, and Balin, and Gloin and--" Kili started listing off everyone who might tell Thorin even if Fili could avoid him.

"And all the rest," Bofur summed up.  "It might be better to just face him right off."

Making a sound almost of distress, Fili sighed as they entered the old apartment building where most of those from Erebor lived since their fortunes had taken a turn downward. "Right," he sighed. "What a fantastic night."

Sitting downstairs and waiting for them, Bifur looked up when he spotted Bofur, a flurry of words leaving him before he shook his head, the toy he'd been carving being put aside.  "Oh good, you got back with no trouble," Kili said brightly and Bifur tilted his head at him in confusion.

Bofur looked relieved to see his cousin, but nodded to FIli and Kili, "Best of luck to you both."  He moved over to Bifur's side, tilting his head at the toy the other had been working on. Bifur looked down at the macabre dragon he'd been carving and shrugged, deciding it would be fine with a nice coat of red paint.

"Thanks," Fili said under his breath, taking the stairs two at a time to the small apartment that was technically Fili's though Kili spent most of his time there anyway despite still supposedly living with their mother. Since everyone living in the building had come from Erebor it hardly mattered who inhabited which apartment.

Shoving the door open Fili dropped his hat and coat on the battered couch, going for the bathroom to wash off the knife he'd used and his hands before sitting on the toilet seat to peer at his cheek in the mirror.

"It's not bad," he declared, Kili leaning against the door.

"What were you doing there anyway?" Kili asked, entering and gathering the cloth and bandages from Fili's hand, cleaning the cut himself. When Fili protested, Kili kicked his leg until he gave up and let his younger brother deal with it.

"Can't I just want a drink?" he murmured.

"It's pretty far to go for that," Kili pointed out. "Also, illegal." Fili leveled him with a long look until Kili laughed. "Next time can't you just be content with Gloin's brew?"

"That's furniture polish," Fili said. "So, no."

Putting the white bandage against Fili's cheek and using surgical tape to keep it in place, Kili shook his head slightly. "Next time you could really get shot."

"Not likely," Fili huffed and Kili hit the side of his head when it disturbed the taping job he was doing. "It'll be fine, Kili."

Mouth twisting, Kili finally nodded, rising and washing his own hands. "There," he said. "All better. Now try not to be too literal when you talk to Thorin."

w-w-w

The next morning found Fili with his head on the desk in the lecture hall, un-bandaged cheek pressed against the wood as he waited for class to start. Thorin had not taken the idea that he had tripped and cut his cheek on the edge of a table very seriously, and thus he'd gotten to sleep very late after a long lecture about responsibility and safety. Fili was just glad Thorin hadn't figured out it was likely a gun graze or one of Smaug's men.

He ignored the sounds of someone coming down the aisle until the footsteps stopped right next to him. "Excuse me?  Are you alright?"

"Great," Fili said, recognizing the voice as one of his fellow students so instead of startling he just waved his hand around.

Starting to turn away, Bilbo Baggins paused and glanced at him again, "Are you in the right classroom?"

At that Fili looked up, braids moving along his face as he sat up. "It's the fifth week of the semester," he said. "Seriously?"

Bilbo tilted his head at him, somewhat bemused, "Beg pardon, I just hadn't seen you in class before and I thought I might as well check."

Shrugging, Fili readjusted his braids. "Fair enough. Do you usually check on strangers?"

"When they're draped over their desks and look injured, I occasionally take a couple of minutes for them."

"That's sweet of you," Fili said, eyebrows going up. "You might want to reconsider that stance though. You're from out of town I take it?"

"What gave it away?  The accent, the fact that I make the mistake of interacting with strangers, or something else?"

"Definitely the checking on injured strangers bit," Fili said.

Bilbo glanced over the other briefly, lingering for a moment on the plait's in the other's hair, "Are you from around here then?"

"Live here, not from here," Fili said, pulling at the braid behind his left ear and shrugging. "Obviously. Did you just come for school?"

"It's a good school, has good programs," Bilbo answered, nodding.

"Sure," Fili agreed, not really knowing one way or the other how the school compared to any others. "Though, you might want to truly reconsider the talking to strangers bit. While you're in this town, at least."

Bilbo thought about that for a moment and then rolled his shoulder, "Usually a wise choice.  I'll take it into account."

"Of course that's only if Professor Elrond doesn't strangle you before the end of the term," Fili added, leaning back in the seat and smirking at the slender man.

Biting his lower lip sheepishly, Bilbo shook his head, "I find questions are the best way to learn sometimes."

"Oh, certainly, if experience isn't there to do it for you," Fili said, stroking his braided mustache. "Though, Professor Elrond seems to have a twitch of his eyebrows just for you."

"I'll take that as the compliment I'm pretty sure it wasn't meant as," Bilbo answered with a bit of a smile, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Take it as you like," Fili said with a tiny smile before he smoothed out his expression when it pulled at his cheek. Opening his mouth to ask Bilbo something else he glanced over his shoulder to see Dwalin stride into the classroom. "Oh, no. Fucking--no," he said more firmly when Dwalin stopped next to where he was sitting, sparing only a brief look for Bilbo.

"Need your help with something," Dwalin said and looked him over. "What'd you do to yourself, lad?"

"Fell on a table edge," Fili said and Dwalin laughed.

"Run that by your uncle yet, boy?"

Bilbo blinked once at the new arrival, glancing at Fili and then toward the front of the room where he could see the seats were practically all filled.  Glancing back at his classmate his brows rose slightly, "Class hasn't even started, are you leaving already?"

"Yes," Fili snapped and then glanced over at Bilbo. "I mean, yes, I passed that by Thorin, no, I'm not leaving class."

"Yes you are," Dwalin replied mildly.

"Dwalin," Fili whined. "I am paying for this. To be educated. That occasionally requires sitting through an _entire_ class session though I know you don't believe that."

Dwalin rolled his shoulders. "Believe me, laddie, you won't learn anything in college, I know because I teach it. It's just to look better for later. Now come along, what are you taking a pansy book course for anyway?"

A voice cut in from behind Dwalin, "Professor Dwalin, I do hope you're not stealing my student away before I have even begun my lecture.  It's bad enough he comes in late and almost invariably has to leave early."

Sinking lower into the desk and covering his face with one hand, Fili tried to pretend he wasn't there as Dwalin turned to look Elrond over. "Aye," Dwalin said. "I had some business I wanted to discuss with him. I assume you're going to tell me to wait?"

One of Elrond's dark eyebrows rose, "I am in fact going to tell you exactly that.  I expect my students in class when they say they're going to be in class.  And in this case since he has actually managed to arrive on time I'm  going to insist that he stays."

Dwalin looked from Elrond to Fili and shrugged. "If you like," he said. "At your service as always, Professor Elrond."

"As I am ever at yours, Professor Dwalin.  Good day," Elrond responded, inclining his head slightly.

Looking once more to his young cousin who still had his face buried behind his hand, Dwalin shrugged. "Of course, good day," he grumbled, already heading back out.

Elrond watched him go before turning to Fili, "I appreciate your arrival today before class starts.  I give you leeway because I know who your family is, but do try not to be late for the exam next week."

Sinking down slightly more Fili nodded. "Yes sir, thank you sir. I'll try very hard."

Nodding once, Elrond turned and made his way to the front of the class, glancing at the clock.  Bilbo watched the teacher go before sliding into the seat next to Fili, "Does that happen often?"

"Which part was that?" Fili asked, finally lowering his hand and looking over.

"Take your pick.  Mostly the not quite sneering that went on between the professors, and you getting pulled out of class bit."

Fili considered before holding his hands out in front of him. "I have a very large--" he said, gesturing for emphasis--"family--a very annoying family too. Dwalin is a part of that and not many of them like books or specifically Elrond and his folk. So yeah, that's pretty normal."

"How many of you are there?" Bilbo asked, pulling his notebook and text out of his bag.

"Um," Fili paused. "A lot. Well, maybe not a large number by most standards but we all live in the same building. And then of course cousin Dwalin teaches here so it's not like I can avoid him."

Dating the top of his notes page, Bilbo glanced at Fili again, "May I ask why they don't like Professor Elrond?"

Fili stopped again, leaning back as he considered it. "They don't like 'his folk' mostly," he said, marking quotation marks in the air. "It's a history that goes back at least the last couple decades but I think it goes deeper than that too. 'Sides, he's a book person which Dwalin, at least, is not. Actually, I'm still fairly sure my uncle hasn't figured out my schedule this semester and I have a feeling Dwalin's been waiting to tell him for a particularly boring day when he wants some excitement."

Bilbo's lips quirked upward at that, "If you know they'll react badly, why are you taking his class?"

Fili looked over. "I have a masochistic streak a mile wide and sometimes thumb it to my uncle? Besides, it sounded interesting. Why, you got a deeper reason?"

"I'm, actually I'm hoping to get into the English program, this is an entry-level class that should help prepare me for that," Bilbo admitted.

"Oh, so you must take books very seriously then," Fili said, tilting his head. "That why you ask so many questions?"

"Mostly.  It's just, sometimes there's a point that he makes that either should be expanded, or that he's looking for some sort of opinion on." Bilbo shrugged, "I've always loved books, and the ability to actually study them?  It's appealing."

"Well," Fili said after a moment. "At least Elrond seems to know what he's talking about. I guess."

"Which I do," Bilbo nodded, starting to say something else, but falling silent as Elrond called for the class' attention.

Fili finally turned his own gaze to the front of the class, unsure about the fact he might have a chance to sit through the entire lecture for once. Every once and a while he would glance over when Bilbo's hand shot up and he tried not to laugh as Elrond's eyebrows twitched downward.

w-w-w

That night at the restaurant he worked at, Bilbo finished up his break and checked to make sure he had his notepad before stepping out on the floor again. It was a decent job and he'd had it for a few weeks, but had only just started on the evening shifts.  He could already tell it was going to do severe damage to his sleep schedule.  The restaurant had a personable atmosphere, more pub-like than anything.  It was very similar to the sort of places they had back home, for what that was worth.

"Ah, Bilbo," the owner of the restaurant said, looking over. "Glad you're out. I have a task for you," Gandalf said.

"I am quickly beginning to learn to dread that phrase," Bilbo offered in reply.  "What do you need me to do?"

“There is a table of thirteen, here for their weekly dinner," Gandalf said, pointing. "Please attend to it."

“Thirteen?" Bilbo's brows rose sharply as he looked in the direction Gandalf indicated, "Wonderful.  And is there anything I should know before dealing with them?"

"Don't insult their customs, keep officer Thranduil--who is taking his evening coffee across the room--as far away as possible and do try to be polite," Gandalf said, smiling at his young employee.

"The first and third I can do.  You want me to keep track of thirteen orders, drinks and dinners and still keep an eye on Officer Thranduil?" Bilbo asked, looking somewhere between skeptical and horrified.

"Right," Gandalf said after a moment. "Well, I'll look to the officer then."

“Thank you," he murmured, before putting on his most polite smile and crossing the restaurant to the table where the guests were seated at rearranged tables.

Sitting at the head of the table, Thorin looked over when the waiter approached, Fili stopping from where they were in quiet conversation to raise his brows at his classmate, unsure exactly how much they had bonded earlier.

Stopping at the corner of the table, Bilbo offered them a smile, "Good evening, gentlemen, is there anything I can get started for you?  Something to drink?"  His gaze scoped over the group, settling for a moment on Fili and his smile brightened very slightly.

"Hello, Bilbo," Fili said as echoes for water, ginger ale and lemonade came in from different directions along the table, Thorin and Kili both looking at Fili.

"I am not sure I've seen you here before," Thorin said, looking over at Bilbo, his posture stiff and his eyes dark.

"Hello, Fili," Bolbo responded, scribbling down the drink orders in approximate circular order around the table, noting down one order for tea and a couple for coffee that were added as well.  He looked up, meeting Thorin's gaze, "I've been here a couple of months, but I only just changed shifts."

Thorin arched a brow, eyes sliding toward Fili. "We go to classes together," Fili explained.

"Aye," Dwalin drawled from where he was sitting next to Thorin. "They are in the same class." Fili's eyes snapped over to the larger man in half alarm.

Bilbo's dark grey eyes flickered up from his notepad to FIli, remembering what he had said earlier and hoping to divert away from it briefly, "Can I get any appetizers started for you or anything like that?"

Several other requests when through, Kili requesting bread sticks from Fili's elbow. "Coffee," Thorin said. "Which class do you have together then?"

"A literature one," Fili said quickly, eyeing Dwalin's smirk warily.

"Books?" Kili asked, wrinkling his nose. "Did you choose that one on purpose?"

"It's a university requirement," Bilbo said from where he was finishing noting the orders, glancing up from his notepad to confirm that he mostly had them with the right person.

"Aye," Dwalin agreed. "Too bad it's with that Elrond."

Silence fell all the way down the end of the table, most of the others craning their heads around to the far end.

Bilbo froze at that, his gaze darting from Dwalin to Fili to the dark-haired man at the head of the table who he could only assume was Fili's uncle.

"It fit my schedule," Fili protested as Thorin eyed him. "Which is funny considering how rarely I actually attend considering how _often_ I get called away."

"I would never interfere with your education," Thorin said slowly.

"Dwalin doesn't share your priorities then," Fili replied sweetly and Kili shifted away from his brother slightly, hoping to inch out of the firing line.

Across the table, Dwalin's eyes narrowed. "I'll get you for that."

Gaze darting along the table again, Bilbo murmured something about seeing to their order and retreated.

Balin spoke from where he was seated next to his brother, "If the class is required, then even if it is Elrond lecturing, it would be best to get it out of the way now."

"Thank you, Balin," Fili said, shifting his shoulders back slightly as Thorin looked over at Dwalin.

"What did he mean?" he asked and Dwalin shrugged.

"His time would be better spent outside that class anyway, doing something useful," he said and Thorin's eyes narrowed slightly, distracted when Bofur and Bifur seemed to strike up a battle with their forks down the table.

Bilbo emerged, carefully balancing a tray filled with the ordered drinks.  His gaze moved to Bifur and Bofur and he sighed, simply grateful that it wasn't the knives.  He started setting the drinks down, hoping he had them right.  Placing Thorin's coffee next to the man's right hand he glanced toward FIli and arched an eyebrow in question of how the discussion of class was going. Offering him a tiny smile, Fili inclined his head slightly, as he'd managed to deflect at least some of it back on Dwalin and not himself, though Kili looked slightly confused next to him still.

"Thank you," Thorin said, voice deep as he glanced up at the waiter.

Glancing at Thorin, Bilbo gave him a smile that he hoped didn't look as flustered as the man's voice was suddenly making him feel.  He was at work, and he would be professional to a fault if that's what it took to get through waiting on someone with that voice, "Of course, sir.  I'll have the appetizers out for you all shortly, if there's anything else I can do for you at the moment?"

Thorin shook his head, already turning his attention to his coffee. "Can I have some of that?" Fili asked, pointing to the coffee as he missed the first round of ordering drinks in the panic over Dwalin sniping across the table at him.

BIlbo nodded, smiling again, "Of course.  I'll be right back with that."  He glanced down the length of the table, making certain that they all seemed content with what he'd brought out so far, though the grey-haired man who'd ordered tea seemed to be eyeing it dubiously.  Nothing for that, but to hope he found it to his taste.  The waiter offered a half bow and slipped away again--reminding himself that he was a sensible, proper Baggins rather than a foolhardy, scandalous Took.

"How is everything going?" Gandalf asked from where he was camped out in front of the kitchen door when Bilbo approached him.

"Well, they seem to have maneuvered through the revelation that Fili is taking a class from Professor Elrond without bloodshed.  Beyond that it's too early to say.  Oh, and two of them seem to think your cutlery is appropriate dueling implements."

"Yes," Gandalf nodded. "That would certainly be Bofur and probably Bifur if he hasn't coaxed Gloin into it. How is Dori liking his calming tea?"

Bilbo grimaced, "I'm not certain he's tried it yet, he's eyeing it as though it were poison."

"He should find no less than three things to complain about," Gandalf said. "Don't' take it to heart. Oh, and his youngest brother does not like green food so it's best to keep that off his plate no matter what he orders. Otherwise, if you've already gotten them through the drinks and a mention of Elrond, you're doing a splendid job."

"Yes, well, I have another order of coffee and several appetizers to get out to them yet.  Not to mention making certain to keep their dinner orders straight." The waiter sighed, "Before I go back, which one is Dori's youngest brother?"

Gandalf craned his neck slightly to double check. "The young one to his right, with the knit sweater. Ori, I do believe."

"Perfect.  No green food on his plate, I'll make certain to keep that in mind."  He ducked back into the kitchen to find the appetizers finished and paused long enough to get Fili's coffee before hefting his tray again and pushing through the door to deliver the orders.  The evening just seemed to grow more interesting by the moment.

The fork fight seemed to have gained a few more participants, even as Thorin talked in quiet tones to Balin and Dwalin, his expression serious.

Cautiously avoiding being stabbed by the forks, Bilbo set the appetizers down around the table.  Placing Fili's coffee in front of him, he settled a basket of breadsticks in front of Kili, "Careful, these just came out of the oven."

"Thank you," Fili said as Kili's expression brightened slightly from where he'd been frowning at Thorin's conversation.

"You're welcome.  Gandalf mentioned you all come in weekly?"

"Or so," Fili agreed, Thorin's eyes moving over before his focus returned to the brothers he was speaking with. "You were working afternoons before, weren't you? Why the switch?"

"Gandalf said he needed someone else on the evening shift and I don't take night classes, so it seemed likely to work out."  Considering the fact that while he'd been standing there yet another person had joined the fork battle, Bilbo was beginning to suspect that the person he was replacing had quit.

Fili glanced down the table and grinned. "I can't imagine why this shift opened up. As I said," he said, making the same motion he had earlier that day when they were in class. "I have a very large, and very strange family."

That earned a laugh, "You did say that, yes.  Though it's not a bad sort of strange at all."

"That's because Gloin hasn't smuggled in any drink and you're not sharpening the knives yet," Fili deadpanned back and Kili looked vaguely offended on behalf of their family.

"Every family has its oddities," Bilbo answered, breezing past the reference to alcohol.

"Certainly," Fili agreed, inclining his head to the side as something that might once have been a napkin went flying past his head. Considering the trajectory he calmly folded his own napkin up and lobbed it at the offender.

Pinching the bridge of his nose briefly, Bilbo put on another smile, "Do you have any idea when I should check back for actual meal orders?"

"I'm sure we have the menu memorized," Kili said from beside his brother, smirking when Nori let out a yelp as Fili's napkin hit his head.

"So if I were to attempt to take orders now it might work?"

"You can try," Fili agreed as Kili started listing off orders, occasionally double checking with whoever he was ordering for.

Bilbo startled slightly at that, scribbling down the orders as Kili's confirmations were confirmed, making certain to put a specific note on Ori's that the little bit of vegetables that came with it was to be left off.  By the end of it, he had all the orders except for Thorin, Balin, and Dwalin.  He thanked Kili softly before moving to where those three were, getting Balin and Dwalin's orders before turning to Thorin, "And what can I get for you tonight, sir?"

Thorin looked up, almost surprised to be asked before shrugging, as Kili did not dare try to presume what his uncle might order. "A soup of whichever there is today," Thorin said, a substantially smaller amount than the others.

Eyebrows rising sharply at that, Bilbo took note of it and mentally comparing it to the meals the others had ordered, "Is that everything?"

"Yes," Thorin nodded, tilting his chin slightly as he looked at Bilbo.

Bilbo blinked once at that, but nodded, "Alright, I'll go get these placed and if you need anything don't hesitate to call."

Thorin nodded at him, gaze level.

"How's your cheek?" Kili asked suddenly, looking at his brother who shrugged.

"Perfectly fine."

Hesitating for the briefest of moments, Bilbo dipped a half bow and hurried off to the kitchen.  Balin looked across the table at Fili, "I do believe that I missed hearing how you injured yourself, laddie."

"He claims he tripped and hit the edge of a table," Thorin drawled carefully.

"It was an accident," Fili said, glancing down the line of the table. Accident, at least, was entirely true.

"The heir of Durin should not be so clumsy as all that," Dwalin said, downing his lemonade in almost one go.

Bilbo had been approaching with a pitcher of water, having noticed that several glasses were low.  He stopped right behind Dwalin, frowning for the first time all evening, "A man can't make a mistake?"

"It speaks to distraction or clumsiness," Dwalin shrugged, not adding it could get someone killed though Fili heard it loud and clear anyway, tugging the braid behind his left ear nervously.

Bilbo didn't look quite convinced, but he simply moved to refill Balin's glass, "I'd say it speaks more to humanity, if I may, sir."

Dwalin turned to look up at him slowly and Fili's head snapped toward Bilbo. "So, are you still enjoying class? Ready for the test next week?" he asked quickly to stop whatever Dwalin was considering saying.

Bilbo drew his gaze away from Dwalin, to look at Fili, "I could study from now until then and still not feel ready for it, if I'm to be honest."  He stepped away from Dwalin, circling the table and refilling glasses as he went.

"Is it a hard class?" Kili asked.

"Well, yes and no," Bilbo responded.  "There's a lot of theoretical things, and I can almost promise there's going to be discussion of some of the symbolism he's been talking about for a week and a half--most of which I feel I'm still missing." Dwalin huffed at the mention of symbolism.

"Well," Fili said. "If you need help studying I can assure you my notes are a warren and a mess."

Bilbo looked to him, "I'd really appreciate that.  I've never studied well on my own."

Inclining his head, Fili shrugged slightly. "Well, I've never been much at studying. Meet at the library, maybe?" he said as another napkin projectile when sailing over the table.

"Sounds perfect.  Does Saturday work for you?"  Bilbo glanced down the table to see yet another napkin being folded in preparation for throwing it.

"Yeah," Fili nodded and Dwalin looked for a moment like he might protest before Thorin arched a brow at him.

Kili frowned before lobbing the projectile he'd been planning to aim at Dori's nose at the side of his brother's head. "Oi," Fili protested.

Bilbo smiled faintly, "Alright then, Saturday it is."  He offered another of his half bows and slipped away to check on the status of their dinners.

Watching him go, Balin shook his head slightly, "Well he seems personable at least."

"Yes," Fili agreed, frowning at Kili and readjusting his hair where the napkin had hit.

"Also appears to be handling things better than the last two waiters, all told," Balin considered, nodding once as though coming to a conclusion about the man he was talking about.

"Which would not be difficult," Thorin rumbled.

"If he makes it through the rest of the meal he'll certainly be better than the last four," Balin responded.

"You seem to like him," Kili remarked and Fili tilted his head over.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"So far he's been a very polite, very nice young man," Balin returned, looking at Kili for a long moment.  "I agree with your brother, is there something wrong with that?"

"No," Kili shrugged, busying himself with the food on the table and the fork war that had graduated to a knife war.

Bilbo emerged at that point, carefully balancing a large tray which he set on a nearby empty table so he could make quick work of unloading it.  He paused next to Gloin and arched an eyebrow at the knife battle going on, "Do you gentlemen mind?  I would prefer not to be here until four re-sharpening all of those only to have you blunt them again next week."

Gloin simply laughed. "You say that as if they aren't already blunt, laddie."

"I remain forever hopeful, sir," Bilbo responded with a sigh, starting to set the food down for them, occasionally glancing at his notes to make sure they got to the right person.  He placed Ori's meal in front of him, leaning down to murmur in his ear that was furthest from Dori, "Fish and chips with extra chips in place of the coleslaw."

Ori startled slightly at that before grinning broadly. "Thanks," he murmured back, Nori shaking his head slightly from beside his brother before promptly nabbing a chip.

"Oi," Gloin protested. "You aren't supposed to bring your job to the table."

Bofur laughed at that, "Like you're a good one to talk, Gloin.  If we're really worried about it, it's what we have the knives and forks for, right?"

"Please try to keep the bloodshed to a minimum," Bilbo murmured as he left to fetch a second tray of food.

Fili and Kili looked first at Bilbo, before realizing he had no idea what he was joking about before both looking back at Bofur.

"Aye lad, we'll try," Gloin nodded, smoothing his red beard down on his chest before attacking his food with the same vigor he'd just attacked Bofur with cutlery.

Returning moments later, Bilbo served the other end of the table, setting Thorin's soup down last, "Can I get anyone anything else?  More coffee perhaps?"

"Please," Fili said as Thorin shook his head.

"If you get jittery tonight and can't sleep, I'm kicking you out of the apartment," Kili warned.

Turning to look at him, Fili frowned. "It's my apartment. You're not even supposed to be living there."

"So was that a yes or a no?"  Bilbo asked, looking amused by the interaction.

"That's a yes," Fili said. "I'll need it to get home at this rate tonight."

Bilbo nodded once and turned to go fetch that, nearly colliding with Officer Thranduil as he went to leave.

Offering the server a faint, cold smile, the police officer moved to put a hand on Thorin's shoulder even as the other man tensed suddenly, any happiness or relaxation on his face wiped off.

"Are you all enjoying your meal then?"

Conversation at the table had died as soon as the officer approached, the silence stony at best and hostile at worst.

Bilbo turned, keeping the officer in view, "Can I help you with anything, Officer Thranduil?"

"Just saying hello to an old friend," the blond said with another cold smile and Thorin's shoulder twitched.

"You might want to keep moving then," Dwalin said, voice lowering and several hands around the table dropped, as if finding weapons without actually drawing them.

"Dwalin," Thorin warned, voice tight. "Be polite."

"I'm not certain your attention is desired, sir," Bilbo spoke softly but firmly.  "I would appreciate you not disturbing the other customers."

"Oh, surely I am disturbing no one," Thranduil said, patting Thorin's shoulder and drawing his slender hand back. "I just wanted to make sure my _old friend_ here was being careful."

"We're always careful," Thorin replied.

Humming, Thranduil glanced over at Fili. "So I see."

Bilbo hesitated, caught between staying and trying to keep this from getting worse and finding Gandalf in the hopes that the restaurant owner would actually be able to prevent anything happening.

Balin looked up at Thranduil briefly, "You've said your piece now, officer."

The police officer laughed, shaking his head as Kili caught Fili's shoulder, making sure he stayed seated. "Yes, of course," he said, inclining his head.

"It was an honor," Thorin said, voice dark. "Though, as much as we should keep safe you should see to doing your duty and your job properly."

Bilbo mentally cursed his luck at ending up with the evening shift even as he caught more subtle movements from the men around the table. Mouth twisting behind his white beard, Balin eyed the officer but remained silent.

"I always do my job," the officer replied stiffly. "If you'll all excuse me, good night."

Thorin smiled thinly. "You are well excused," he said and Thranduil’s brows twitched before he nodded. Placing his uniform cap back on he shook his head, strolling for the door.

Bilbo breathed a sigh of relief and scurried off to the kitchen to get Fili's coffee, and half hoping to find Gandalf there.

Gandalf, who stood outside smoking his pipe, had thought Thranduil was heading for the door, unaware that the officer had been watching him and doubled back when Gandalf stepped outside for a celebratory smoke. Bilbo pushed his way through the back door, offering Gandalf a long stare, "Oh, there you are.  I was wondering where you'd got off to at an inconvenient moment."

"Yes, here I am," Gandalf agreed, blowing a smoke ring. "Which moment was inconvenient, though more importantly, is there ever such a thing as a truly convenient one?"

"Officer Thranduil just left after upsetting my entire table," the waiter offered by way of answer.

Gandalf paused and sighed, realizing his mistake. "Were any weapons drawn?"

"No, but it was a close thing.  I was unaware that weapons being drawn was a risk in that situation until I was in the middle of it."

“Oh, well, last time Thorin may, or may not, have slammed a gun on the table before the good officer left," Gandalf shrugged, blowing out another smoke ring.

Bilbo looked singularly unimpressed with that, "I am beginning to understand why everyone looked at me with pity when they found out I'd been moved to evenings."

 "Well, you've already done better than anyone else," Gandalf beamed at him. "They tip well."

That finally garnered a wry smile, "They’re not a bad lot, just... passionate in a variety of ways.  Well, Fili's expecting another cup of coffee, so I'd best get that out to him.  Oh, and one more thing, I'm not going to have to re-sharpen the knives _tonight_ am I?"

"I'll make someone else do it," Gandalf assured with a smile. His smile taking on a hint of relief, Bilbo murmured his thanks and disappeared back inside to fetch the coffee.

w-w-w

Carefully removing the suppressor from the end of his gun, Smaug dropped the silencer and reached for his dark smoke grey suit coat which lay where he had dropped it away from the intended direction of blood spatter. Sliding the jacket on and buttoning it over his white shirt--now stained enough to likely require disposal--he surveyed the scene before him.  The four members of what had once been a comfortable family lay dead.  The wounds on the children were minimal--a single gunshot each.  He wanted to leave a message, and simply having them dead would do that.  He pushed aside the daughter's limp hand with the toe of his well-polished shoe.  The mother lay a few feet to his left, blood pooling around her from the wound in her chest, and a mark about five feet up the wall where his second shot had caught her head.

Stepping over the father--four shots, each meant to cause pain and a fifth to kill--the killer considered the most effective evidence to leave.  Thorin Oakenshield was still holding onto that struggling little family of his and it was high time that stopped, in Smaug's opinion.  His lip curled in disgust as he caught sight of himself in the mirror.  Withdrawing the red and gold kerchief he carried in his breast pocket, he wiped a few stray drops of blood from his cheek and carefully folded the fabric, placing it back in his pocket. 

Finally settling on the best evidence, he knocked over the umbrella stand by the door--making it look more like a struggle than it actually had been--and opened the door to the house.  Two of his men entered, carrying a body with them, Smaug fired a single shot over the wound already in the man's chest and wiped the gun, putting it in the father's hand.  The braids in the fifth's victim’s hair would tie him to Oakenshield and the gun used to kill the family, dropped next to the other corpse's hand, was one that could be traced back to that gang as well.

He nodded to his men and exited the house silently, leaving the door ajar. Parting ways with his employees, he strolled along the street to where he had left his car.  He had a financial meeting early the next morning and it wouldn't do to be late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got an edit over for sentence flow and concepts September 13, 2017. (It's really wild going back to writing from so many years ago and the beginning of our time in the Hobbit fandom. Some things have changed is all)


	2. They're Just Bruises

Watching the others walking in front of them back to the apartment building, Thorin glanced over at Balin, the shorter man strolling beside him at the back of the pack. "Any news?" Thorin asked, now they were out of the restaurant, his hands in his pockets.

"Smaug's moving further in on the east side, and Azog's closing in from the south," Balin said, hands in his pockets. "It's all more bad news I’m afraid."

Thorin suppressed a sigh, accepting them. "It usually is," he rumbled, shaking his head. "The newspapers scream about how gangs have advanced and the cities are falling to mob and gangster rule. If only our fortunes were on that rise instead of sinking lower."

“The newspapers aren't far off," Balin shook his head.  "If only it wasn't at the expense of the other gangs.  We've heard back from the northern gangs--we'll see no help from them."

"This is not their city," Thorin shrugged. "What use would they have in it?"

"A valid point, but one would hope that they would come to the aid of those who have called them allies in the past."

"You are very optimistic, old friend," Thorin said with a faint smile, shaking his head again. "But old alliances mean little in new worlds." And it had become a new world since the last war and again all over since prohibition went into effect.

"Old alliances are what should matter in a world where new ones are nigh impossible to form," Balin muttered.  "It is little matter though, when we're pressed on from two sides with our backs to a wall on a third."

The corners of Thorin's mouth twitched again. "We will make it," he declared. "No matter what has happened or where we stand now, we'll make it. We have strong hearts among us."

"Strong hearts do not stop bullets, Thorin."

“Nor fire," he agreed, remembering the old mansion they had once lived in when his grandfather was alive and when they had been a prosperous people. But then the mansion had burned, and a war overseas had shaken the world, and now the government had outlawed something that many people were willing to break the law to get, convulsing the underworld.

"Nor fire," came the quiet echo.  "We're very few against foes who have beaten us back and down before."

"Would you have us give up?" Thorin asked, looking down. "We fight for what little remains to us, no matter what bad news comes."

 "No, Thorin," Balin shook his head.  "I would not have us give up, I just fear we'll come out even worse in the end."

"Then we'll just have to do something to change your mind," Thorin said, voice warming slightly.

That finally earned a faint smile from the other man, "We shall indeed."

w-w-w

Entering the house where the call for police originated, Thranduil pushed the brim of his hat back, looking around and trying not to gag as his boot brushed the rim of the umbrella stand. "This is a right mess," he said, shaking his head.

Bard stepped in right behind him, paling at the bloodstained entry, carefully stepping around the body that lay there, looking into the next room and pulling back quickly, "I think 'mess' is too mild a term."

"It's a family," Thranduil shook his head. "The press is going to go ballistic, and we're going to have to find someone really fast to blame."

"We don't need to look too far," Bard replied, looking down at the body in the entry hall.  "Did you get a look at the one out of place?"

"The one with eight braids?" Thranduil arched a brow. "It seems a little too obvious, don't you think?"

"We don't need the actual murderer yet.  We need someone the press will accept rather than roasting us," Bard answered.  "We'll keep investigating, but we need something to tell them."

Thranduil shrugged. "Well, yes. Though can you imagine the stir if we say a family got murdered, we think, by someone from Erebor? No one is going to hear the investigation pending bit." Shaking his head he made sure all his pale blond hair was tucked underneath his cap before bending down to consider the corpse with braided hair. "Unless someone can find some sort of connection between this family and Smaug or Azog's gangs, I'd be sore pressed to imagine Thorin took that much of a hit to his intelligence. At least without revenge being a major motivating factor, because _that_ turns him into a gibbering idiot."

"He wouldn't leave the body behind, he's not that stupid," Bard agreed.  "Even if he was, there's not enough blood around this body for the man to have died here.  Stains on his shirt around the gunshot, sure, but not more than that.  Problem is, if they tried to set him up we're probably not going to find evidence linking anyone else to this."  He pulled a capped pen out of his pocket and used the end of it to point to the clothes the man was wearing, "Also not enough spatter on him for him to have done the deed.  But we'll need something.  Even if we leave the Erebor facet out, how long before someone leaks it to the press?"

"Not long at all," Thranduil said, tilting his head at the blood spatters, every motion he made tightly contained. "We'll have to question all of them and start figuring out who might've done this."

Bard shook his head, carefully stepping into the room where the family lay, "We start questioning them and the press'll catch wind of that.  Goddamn hounds that they are."

"Can you think of anyone else we should question?" he asked. "Say we're following up on a lead only, the press can make of that what they want."

"We'll start with the Erebor lot," Bard grimaced.  "Let whoever did this think we're focused there and work from that point.  Get this place looked over for fingerprints, and maybe we get lucky."

Looking down at the body, Thranduil didn't share his optimism. "Yes," he said. "Maybe we'll get lucky." And that morning he'd been looking forward to a quiet weekend with time enough to pester information out of his son. Shaking his head, he pulled a notebook out, tucking his pen behind his ear as he surveyed the room.

w-w-w

Bilbo sat at a table in the university library, his notes and books for Professor Elrond's class scattered around him.  He was absently thumbing through his notebook, and realizing that his handwriting had been getting more cramped the longer he was in the class.  Glancing up, he smiled when he spotted Fili.

Fili returned the smile with a tired one of his own. "Enjoying the weekend yet?" he asked, sinking down across the wooden table.

"I got to sleep in a little bit this morning, so I suppose that would file under the 'yes' category.  You look as though you've hardly slept, though," Bilbo remarked.

Fili blinked once and shrugged. "Sleep appears to be something for other people. Remind me to kill Gloin when his hang over wears off for singing until three am."

"Why wait?" came the reply, accompanied by a smile and a shake of BIlbo's head.

"Because I want him to really suffer for it," Fili said. "He won't notice so much if his head is still fuzzy."

"Seems reasonable. You've quite the family,” Bilbo remarked.

"And that wasn't even all of them," Fili said. "But you seemed to have survived the night fairly intact. And there was less broken dishes than usual."

"They were hardly that bad," Bilbo assured.  "Though I may confiscate knives before the meal begins next week and only give them out to those whose meals require them.  Do me a favor and don't warn them in advance?"

"Though, if they find out I knew, I will have betrayed the cause," Fili said. "But I'll try to play that close to the chest, shall I?"

"Thank you.  I managed to avoid having to resharpen them, but I do feel rather bad for leaving that job to any co-worker."

The corner of Fili's mouth twitched up. "I'm sure they'll manage it without too much pain."

Bilbo chuckled, "Oh quite probably." He glanced down at his notebook, "So, an exam for Professor Elrond's literature class.  I've heard horror stories from his previous students..."

"I've heard horror stories about him for years," Fili said, smile taking on a feral edge. "He can't be that scary. What's worrying you the most anyway?"

"How specific he's going to want us to be in the essay portion, mostly," Bilbo admitted.

"It's inclass, right?" Fili said, wrinkling his nose. "It shouldn't be too intensive or no one would pass."

"I admit I'm probably worrying needlessly, in all honesty.  I usually do just before any exam."  Bilbo considered his classmate for a moment, "Dwalin said something about the heir of Durin when you all were in the other night.  I've, I've been wondering what he meant, if it's not too forward of me to ask?"

"It," Fili paused, brows quirking together. "Well, that big, crazy family? Is also a good bit traditional. And my uncle is head of the family, since grandad and grandpa were k--died. Since he's never had kids, that means eventually I'm probably going to head the family. And Durin--well back home it would translate to royalty, only there's not been a monarchy in a long time so it's just an empty title anyway."

"But the symbol of that monarchy and royalty means something significant and important to your family," Bilbo murmured.  "Thorin's your uncle, right?"

"Yeah," Fili said, paying more attention to his pen for a moment as he twirled it around. "So sure, it's a symbol but if there had ever been a chance of it to be more, the last war wiped it right off the map. So instead I get someday to try and keep that family in check."

"I think you'll be able to manage it.  But, at the same time I hope it's a good while away before that has to happen."

"Yeah me too," Fili said and shook his head. "You know, you've heard a lot about my family and I've nothing of yours."

"Not a whole lot to tell." Bilbo shrugged, "My father's got a small family, very proper.  My mother on the other hand, well she's got a huge family, there was, well there was quite the scandal when that happened.  My mother's family, they, they're boisterous."

Fili snorted. "Boisterous, sure," he said, braids swinging as he shook his head. "I'm sure they're all lovely."

Bilbo smiled faintly, "Well, I mean we're from the Shire, so boisterous means something different there in some ways.  But by our standards, Tooks aren't exactly mild.  Far more likely to get into trouble, go travelling, fight wars."

"Not usual among your folk then?" Fili asked, one hand tapping on the cover of his book.

"Not at all.  Shire-folk do their best to mind their own business and let the world mind theirs.  Tooks and those from Buckland are a different story though.  Buckland's on the border so they tend to interact more with the outside world and Tooks, they've got a wanderlust."

"Is that what got you all the way out here?" Fili asked, and apparently neither of them really cared to study, though his head whipped around when he heard what sounded like his brother yelling his name, a reference librarian trying to shush him.

Bilbo nodded, looking in that direction as he answered, "My father wanted me to attend the university in the Shire." Bofur and Kili were making their way quickly through the library to Fili.

"Well, I'm glad you chose to come here then," Fili said distractedly, watching the other two. "A moment," he said, rising as Kili just took off running to reach him faster. "What is going on?" he demanded, steadying Kili.

"There's been a murder," Kili said and Fili's eyes widened. "No, not us--I mean, we don't think it was any of us murdered but the police are _blaming_ us."

"What?" Fili gaped down at him. " _How_? Why?" He didn't ask if they had done it with Bilbo standing there.

"We don't know yet," Bofur answered, tugging on his right braid.  "But they're looking for all of us for questioning, and you know what that usually ends in."

Fili swore deeply under his breath, hands still on his brother's shoulder. "They don't like us much," Kili murmured softly. "If they're coming after us..."

"Who's the officer?" Fili asked.

"Thranduil and Bard," Bofur replied, shaking his head.  "The worst options for us."

Swearing again, Fili shook his head. "Thranduil has a bone to pick and Bard's sense of duty tends to obscure what's actually happened." His eyes snapped over to Bilbo, realizing that he was still there. "Oh."

Bilbo was staring at them wide-eyed as he swept his notes and books together, "Someone's been k-killed?"

"That's what happens in this town," Bofur responded. Fili spared a glare for him for being so blunt.

"A family," Kili said, eyes wide in his face. "They killed a _family_ and they're blaming _us_ for it. We'll be hunted out of town with sticks and stones and pitchforks--"

"Kili," Fili said even as his hands tightened again. "No. They won't. We'll be fine, okay? Okay." He glanced over at Bofur. "Do we know any more than that?"

“It wasn't just a murder.  It was a slaughter," Bofur replied, shaking his head.  "The whole family, father mother, two children, all shot dead."

The idea of sticks and stones and pitchforks suddenly seemed a lot more likely. "Fuck," Fili murmured.

"But you all didn't do it," Bilbo protested.  "Surely they would be able to figure that out?"

The brother's looked over at him. "In an ideal world," Fili agreed before looking at Bofur. "Have they started questioning people already?"

Bofur drew an unsteady breath and nodded, "They picked up Bombur this morning."

"They'll be coming to the apartment building next," Fili shook his head and looked at Bilbo again. "I'm sorry," he said. "But studying--"

"No, go, you need to deal with this," Bilbo shook his head.  "Just, stay as safe as you can.  All of you."

"We usually try," Fili nodded. "Good luck."

"You too," he replied quietly. Nodding at him again Fili swept his books into his bag, hand going to Kili's back as he guided him out of the library. Bofur offered Bilbo the faintest of smiles before following the brothers out.

"What're we gonna do?" Kili asked, voice soft.

"Well, you're still in high school, so you and Gimli will probably not be questioned too much," Fili said. "But we'll all figure something out."

"And we'll make it through this," Bofur said, quietly.  "We've all survived this long.  This will just take a bit more bending than usual."

"We haven't survived everything before this terribly gracefully," Kili muttered under his breath.

Bofur glanced at him, repeating, "But we've survived."

Kili didn't say not all of them had, considering the fate of his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather. Eyes widening, he startled, looking up at his brother. "Fili, you're injured. They won't--"

"It happened before these murders," Fili said. "We have proof of that at least."

"Witnesses outside the family for that, even," Bofur supplied.

Fili nodded. "It'll be fine," he assured him again. "If it happened last night and they can figure out when, we even have the start of an alibi."

Bofur glanced at him and nodded, "Which if it was early enough we have Thranduil himself as witness to."

"The waiters kicked us out late, remember?" Fili asked, tightening an arm around Kili's shoulders. "It'll be fine."

"And the press?" Kili frowned and Fili almost stopped to swear again.

"Will be less fine. Take it as it comes, brother," Fili said, shaking his head. "We'll get through it."

Bofur nodded, "Minute at a time, and keep our heads down."

"Yeah, it'll be fine," Fili said again and stopped in his tracks. "Wait, has anyone seen or told Ori yet?"

"I haven't seen him," Bofur admitted.  "Is he on campus today?"

"Yeah," Fili said, turning around even though they had just left campus. "We walked here together, he's in the art studio."

"Does that mean we need to get him?" Kili asked, not sounding thrilled at the prospect of taking longer make their way home.

Bofur grimaced, tugging on one of his braids again, "We'd better.  Wouldn't do to leave him on his own with this going on."

Nodding once, Fili sped up until they reached the art studio, explaining the issue quickly to Ori, who spilled paint over his canvas. By the time Ori cleaned that up, even with all of their help, enough time had passed to make Bofur slightly jumpy about actually getting to the apartments before the police arrived. Hoping down the last steps of the art building, Kili stopped when he noticed Thranduil leaning against a car pulled up in front of the art building. "You're kidding," he managed as Fili caught his shoulder, pushing his brother behind him slightly.

"Can we help you officer?"

Behind him Bofur starting cursing before taking a half step forward, putting himself between the officer and Ori.

Kili and Ori looked at each other from where they'd both been placed behind the older two, Kili's expression taking on a shade more anger.

"We just need to talk to you all," Thranduil replied smoothly.

"Would it hurt so much to let us get home rather than picking us off the street?" Fili said with a scowl.

"But then you could start collaborating your stories," Thranduil said, tone almost sing-song. "I was frankly hoping you hadn't started gathering together yet, but I'll take the four of you over the entire apartment building."

"How long is this 'just talking' going to take?" Bofur asked warily, watching the officer for any sudden moves.

"Well that's going to depend," Thranduil shrugged, sounding casual but there was a tension around the corners of his mouth.

"On?"  Bofur did his best to keep his voice steady.

"Well, it all depends on what we find out, doesn't it?" Thranduil said, smile cold. "Now, if you all will?" he said, gesturing to the police cars.

Bofur's jaw tensed and he glanced at Fili.  It wasn't as though they had much choice but there was some part of him that was still looking for a route out of the situation.

Fili shook his head slightly, turning back to Thranduil. "Alright," he said. "Fine."

w-w-w

Several hours later, the four of them were finally deposited on the front step of the apartment building.  Bofur pulled his hat down more firmly on his head, offering a glare to the receding police car.

"What happened?" Thorin demanded, from where he was waiting by the door since they hadn't come home.

"Thranduil found us on the university campus," Bofur answered, shifting his shoulders.

Thorin looked between them. "What were all of you doing there?"

"Fili had that meeting with the waiter, Kili wanted to warn him.  I didn't think it wise for any of us to be out on our own at the moment," Bofur explained.  "And then we realized we'd forgotten Ori and by the time we'd fetched him, Thranduil was waiting."

"You almost forgot me?" Ori asked, blinking a betrayed look over to Fili as Kili shifted, not wanting to let his uncle know exactly why Bofur thought it was best they not be let out on their own.

"You're the one who spilled all your paint and took forever," Fili protested and Ori frowned at him.

Bofur glanced at Ori, "It wasn't his fault, lad, he's the one who remembered you were on campus at all today."

Ori shifted his shoulders slightly and Thorin ushered the four of them inside. "Bombur's already back too," he said, shaking his head. "Did they say anything more about what they suspect?"

"Not to me," Fili shook his head.

Bofur shook his head, "No.  They're being closed-lipped about it."

"What's got them so sure it's us?" Kili asked, once they were in the foyer of the building.

Bombur approached, coming down the stairs from the second floor in time to hear that, his looped and plaited beard resting against his wide chest, "I overheard a couple of them talking on my way out.  There was another body besides the family there.  Had lots of plaits in his hair apparently."

"Braids," Fili said in disbelief. "They're coming after us because someone there had braids in their hair? Do they even know if that man was the killer or someone visiting?"

"I don't know.  Only heard that much before they spotted me and shut up."

Balin spoke from where he'd been listening in by an entrance to the hall beside the stairs that led to the apartments on the first floor, "We'll need to be extra careful.  If they’re talking about it, it means the papers will likely catch wind of it too, if they haven't already."

"We haven’t' done anything--" Ori started and paused. "Overt, anyway, in a while though."

"We've never been in the business of killing children either," Thorin said even as Fili shifted his shoulders. "If the paper catches wind of this though, we'll have to lay low for a while."

"It'll be the great Erebor scare," Fili said, tone mocking. "Who needs to worry about communists when you have that? Because communists can be anyone, but those folks? They have braids in their hair and old costumes and if braids are enough to have us all questioned what're we going to do?"

"It's not the police questions we have to worry about," Balin replied, shaking his head.  "Communists can hide from the public eye.  Thorin's right, we'll have to lay low.  Even more than we have before."

"So there's the police, the press, and that's on top of Smaug's men?" Kili asked, eyes wide in his face.

"And Azog's gang," Fili added under his breath.

Bofur glanced at them, remembering some of the public backlash from the War even after their people were thoroughly defeated, "And if the press get all the information they can there's likely to be everyone else too."

Shifting uncomfortably, Ori's hands pulled at the hem of his jacket. "Will we even be able to keep going to class?" he asked, eyes sliding over to Fili.

"Sure," he said, not feeling confident at all.

Kili snorted. "Actually, missing class might be a nice bonus to come out of this."

"Kili," Thorin warned and his younger nephew looked down.

Balin sighed, looking to Ori, "We'll have to see how bad it gets, laddie, before we can say either way."

"With luck, it'll blow over soon," Fili said. Thorin looked at Balin, clearly not believing that would be the case before nodding.

"With luck," he murmured.

w-w-w

Only, the situation only took a nose dive when the papers published the story on Sunday, Thorin tossing the newspaper away in disgust. They all started stepping more carefully but they still had lives to live and business to do.

"You really didn't have to come," Fili said, glancing over at Kili who glared at him in response as Fili carried the crate down the street. Gloin's still didn't produce much that wasn't instantly consumed by someone in the building, but they had an agreement with the speakeasy down the street.

"None of us should be out alone," Kili said, shoving his hands deep into his overcoat's pockets and hunching his shoulders. Glancing over, Fili decided not to say that his brother might not be the best protection but he just nodded instead.

Shoving the back door open, he nodded to the guard who recognized him, though the look the brothers got this time was much darker and Fili winced when he noticed the man reading a newspaper.

"Just do your business and go," the man rumbled and Fili nodded, taking the stairs a bit faster. He suddenly felt a lot better about the fact that Kili had never managed to get into the habit of braiding his hair and wasn't drawing nearly as much attention as he was when they stepped into the speak.

He dropped the crate on the counter, the bartender just nodding at him. "You might consider repackaging these," he said under his breath and that got a faint smile and another nod from the bartender.

Turning to go, Fili almost collided with the man who'd stepped up behind him, several other lackeys on either side. "Can I help you?" he asked, looking up at the taller man and then over to where Kili was standing several feet away, lingering closer to the door.

"You're one of those folk, aren't you?" the man growled, physically pulling on one of Fili's braids and he had to do everything not to snarl, only jerking his head back instead. "Those that killed that family."

"Accused," Fili said. "Possibly. I personally don't make it a habit of going around and killing families myself." Which was truly a stupid thing to say he realized as the man glowered down at him. "You know, this bartender really frowns on fights here," he said quickly and in response the man's arm shot out, grabbing Fili by the arm and dragging him out the back entrance.

Fili decided he really should not open his mouth in tense situations as he was all but thrown outside into the alleyway behind the speakeasy. "Your kind aren't welcome here," one of the shorter men growled and Fili's eyes whipped over to him, trying to keep track of all three.

"Then I'll leave," he said, motioning down the alley. "See? Don't much have a reason to stay, I'll just be on my way--"

Before he could take a step away the taller ringleader grabbed him from the side, one hand slamming his shoulder into the wall, face first and the other twisting in his hair. "What's with all these stupid braids for anyway?" he asked and Fili growled, twisting his elbow around to slam into the man's gut.

Breath huffing out, the man used his grip on Fili's hair to shove his face into the alley wall and Fili saw bursts of light behind his eyes.

"Brother!" he heard a yell from the stairs and Fili would have cursed loudly if someone hadn't just landed a blow against his kidney. Struggling back, he heard the sounds of a scuffle behind him. He turned his head enough to see Kili grappling with the smallest of the three men before his head was yanked back by the hair again.

"Got lots of fancy hair for a boy," the ringleader said and Fili could feel a knife somewhere around his throat, suddenly going limp as he tried to figure out how to avoid that. His head was yanked to the other side as the man seemed to consider, finding the slender braid at the base of his neck that usually was covered by the rest of his hair. "Why hide this one?" the man asked and Fili just snarled again even as he felt the knife move and the braid get pulled back. He used the moment when the man cut the braid off to throw himself backward, off balancing them both.

Springing back up he stomped on the other man's stomach and kicked him in the ribs, scrabbling over shove his shoulder into the man that hit Kili in the face. Fili grabbed Kili's shoulder, looking around for the third man and when he saw him taking off down the alley, Fili turned him and Kili in the other direction.

"Come on," he said, pulling Kili with him as they ran.

They didn't stop until they got back to the apartment building, and as they ran through the lobby and up the stairs, he really hoped no one was around to see them.

"You should have killed them!" Kili yelled as soon as they were in his apartment, Fili shutting the door quickly.

"That wouldn't have solved anything," Fili said, leaning against the door and fingering the back of his neck, wincing.

"They attacked you first," Kili snarled and stopped as Fili reached a hand out, feeling his brother's cheek.

"You'll have a bruise," he murmured. "They may have attacked first, but more death now, of just... civilians would have only made things worse."

Kili's eyes narrowed, one of his own hands slipping behind Fili's neck and touching where the braid had been. "You didn't seem to mind killing those other men, just a few nights ago."

"They were mobsters," Fili pointed out. "Smaug's men. That's different."

"They cut off your Durin's braid," Kili said, voice dropping. The tiny braid that often remained hidden in the back of their hair was the only one Kili regularly wore, as it was the symbol they were descendants of Durin.

"It's fine," Fili said, even though it really wasn't. He took a deep breath, catching Kili's hand when his brother lightly touched his nose. "I can rebraid it with the hair there," he assured, Kili's face threatening to collapse. "It's fine."

They both nearly jumped out of their skin when a knock came at the door.

The knock was repeated, their mother's voice drifting through the door, "Fili, Kili?"  The doorknob rattled as she tried it.

The two brothers jumped, Fili tripping over Kili's feet as he tried to move away from the door even as he faced it. "Fuck," he swore as they both caught themselves on each other. "A moment," he yelled through the door.

Dis took a half step back from the door, waiting for one of her sons to open it, her fingers coming up to trace over the silver fastening on the braid she wore behind her right ear.

Looking between themselves again, Kili yanked open the door. "Mother," he greeted brightly, though the bruise was already evident on the side of his face.

Her lips curled up in a fond smile at the sight of her youngest, but her eyes immediately moved to his face.  She stepped forward, entering the apartment at the same time that she reached up to brush just along the bruise, "What happ--" Dis broke off as she spotted Fili's  battered state.  "Who did this?"

"Nothing," he protested, "I mean, no one."

"So you broke your own nose?" Dis leveled him with a sharp look.

Fili paused as Kili looked back at him. "SI shouldn't even bother coming up with an excuse, should I?"

Shaking her head, her dark hair sweeping over her shoulders, Dis responded, "I honestly hope you don't doubt my intelligence that much, Fili."

"It worked last time," Fili said, shifting his shoulders and wincing.

"No it didn't," Kili protested. "Just, no one called you out on it."

"Your brother's got it far more right than you do.  What were the two of you thinking going out alone?" she demanded, arms crossed over her chest and eyeing them both.

"It was just down the block," Fili said and Kili shook his head. "And I still had work to do. I didn't expect to get jumped already is all."

"He wanted to actually go alone too," he said and Fili glared at his younger brother.

Dis glanced at her younger son before turning her full attention back to Fili, "Is that true?"

Eyes narrowing at his brother, Fili shrugged. "It was honestly just down the block. But yes."

"You two do realize I'll have to speak to your uncle about this, of course."

"No!" they yelped together, Fili actually taking a full step forward.

"Did you honestly expect me not to?  Fili your nose is broken, you've got cuts on your neck.  He's going to see it and he's no more an idiot than I am," Dis responded, frowning at her sons.

"They cut off one of his braids too," Kili said and Fili honestly looked like he wanted to strangle his own brother.

Dis paled at that, her eyes widening as she took stock and couldn't see any missing braids.  Her voice dropped dangerously as she met her eldest son's eyes, "They cut your Durin's braid?"

Bracing himself, Fili nodded. "They had no idea what it meant, and I can rebraid it."

"Neither of those is the point.  We're going to speak with your uncle," her tone brooked no arguments.

"No," Fili said anyway, crossing his arms over his chest even as he quailed slightly under her look.

"I could always have him come here if you would prefer," Dis offered, her dark eyebrows rising slightly as she dared her son to argue further.

"Have who come here?" Thorin asked from the doorway, having been alerted to something being wrong by Bifur, who'd been sitting in the lobby when the brothers came running through. The other had simply pointed him to their room and left him there.

"You have the most perfect timing, brother," Dis remarked.  "We were just going to find you."

"Why?" he frowned and finally got a good look at his nephews. "What happened?" he demanded and they both shrank back slightly.

"They were attacked," his sister answered for them, gaze moving from her brother to Fili.  "Delivering Gloin's moonshine down the street."

"You should not have gone out," Thorin said with a frown and Fili tensed.

"Would you rather stay cooped up in here like some sort of a siege mentality?" he demanded and Thorin's brows raised fractionally.

"If it kept everyone safe," he replied. "Yes."

"Considering what those bastards did to you, Fili?"  Dis nodded in agreement with Thorin, "We've no need to go out right now."

Fili looked between them in alarm as Kili perched on the battered arm of his brother's armchair. "What? No. It's fine, it's nothing--"

"Who was it?" Thorin asked, taking another step closer to get a better look at Fili's face, tilting his chin back into the light and Fili shifted.

"They were just thugs," he murmured.

Dis crossed her arms over her chest, her brown eyes narrowing again.  She pushed the door shut rather than have their conversation easily overheard, "Thugs with knives who broke your nose, scarred your neck, and severed your braid."

"What?" Thorin demanded, voice dropping lower and Fili's shoulders hunched.

He glanced over at his brother who didn't quite meet his eyes and sighed. "They didn't know what it means," he said. "And I _can_ rebraid it. They were just stupid thugs who read the newspaper."

"But they cut off the braid that proclaimed you as from Durin?" Thorin repeated, voice growing more dangerous and Fili nodded.

Dis finally addressed her brother, her voice steady though it held an edge, "We've no idea who they were, Thorin.  All we can do is re-plait the braid and keep these two home."

"I'm not staying home," Fili protested, jerking back. "I have a test tomorrow and no idiotic threats are keeping me home."

"Then your uncle will take you to it and bring you home from it," Dis answered, looking to Thorin for confirmation.

"Yes," Thorin said with a firm nod and Fili's eyes widened as he protested again.

"I'll not lose you to this, Fili!" Dis finally snapped, the flash of fear she'd felt when she first saw her son's state seeping into her tone and expression very briefly before she cleared them both again.  "If that means your uncle drives you to campus tomorrow and waits until your exam is finished then so be it."

Eyes widening, Fili hesitated before taking a step toward his mother. "Hey," he said, voice soft as he put a hand on her shoulder. "You aren't loosing me. It's just... fools. Things will blow over and I'll be more careful, okay?"

"You really should have just killed them," Kili muttered into his chest.

"Kili," Fili said, looking over.

Reaching up and covering her eldest's hand with her own, Dis looked toward Kili, "Not killing them was possibly the most intelligent thing your brother did tonight.  We don't need more trouble on our heads right now."

"And it wasn't a wise decision the other night?" Kili asked and Fili felt his stomach turn over as Thorin looked at him.

"The other night?"

Dis' eyes moved back to Fili and she reached up to touch his injured cheek, "This was a graze wasn't it?"

Hesitating in the face of Thorin's thunderous expression and Kili's horror at having spoken, Fili finally nodded.

"Who?" Thorin said, voice almost a growl.

"Bofur said it was Smaug's men," Kili said and winced as Thorin's eyes widened, realizing he'd just thrown Bofur under the bus.

"What were you two doing anywhere near where they would be?" Dis demanded, taking a step back away from Fili to better look at both her sons.

They both looked at each other, Kili sliding off his perch to stand by his brother, trying to show some support. "It doesn't matter," Thorin said when Fili remained stubbornly silent. "You are not going out unsupervised again."

"Am I a child or a convict?" Fili snapped.

"A child," Thorin said mildly.

"And your uncle or I will determine what counts as supervised," Dis spoke firmly.  "Do I make myself clear?"

Fili's entire posture tensed and he gave a terse nod, already rebelling mentally and devising plans to slip past them if he needed to.

"What time do you need to be there for your exam tomorrow?" Dis asked after a brief moment.

"It's a morning class," he said, looking down.

"I'll go wake up Oin," Thorin said. "And I'll see you in the morning."

Dis watched her brother go before looking back to her sons, "It's not a permanent mandate, Fili.  But it's as though you attract trouble."

With a sigh, he nodded. "I suppose I can't argue with that."

She traced a hand over one of his braids, "Do you want me to replait your Durin's braid or would you prefer to?"

"I'd rather," he said softly. "But, thank you." Pausing he covered her hand. "I will be more careful. I will."

"That's all I can ask," she murmured, looking toward Kili.  "Keep each other safe, please, for the love of all we hold dear." They both nodded as Thorin entered, holding the door for Oin.

The older healer entered, Dis taking a step away from her son as Oin crossed the room, ear trumpet in one hand and his medical kit in the other, "Let's have a look then."

Mouth thinning, Fili sat down on the couch with a sigh. "Alright."

Oin sat down next to him on the side that looked like it had received the most damage, opening his kit and starting to clean the wounds.  Dis watched for a few moments before crossing to Kili's side, remaining silent.

Her younger son stood tense beside her, Thorin watching quietly. "Are there likely to be any other wounds?" he asked after a moment and Fili looked over.

"There shouldn't be anything but bruises elsewhere," he said. Dis felt herself relax very slightly when Fili said that, her gaze focused on Oin and how the healer was treating the visible wounds.

"Will he be alright?" Thorin asked Oin after a while, Kili leaning against his mother's side.

 Oin nodded, assuming the question more than fully hearing it, "His nose will be crooked, but there shouldn't even be scars when he's healed."

Dis' hand stilled briefly where she was combing it through Kili's hair as she had when he was younger, "You're sure?"

"I know my work, my lady.  His neck will be sore for a while, but he'll heal just fine."

Kili let out a breath he hadn't quite realized he'd been holding before nodding. "Thank you, Oin," Thorin said as Fili rose, already feeling stiff.

The healer rose, packing up his supplies and nodding to Thorin, "You're welcome."  He looked to Fili, "Try not to put too much strain on your neck over the next few days.  Let those wounds heal."

"Thank you," Fili said, managing to summon a smile for the other.

 Oin nodded again, offering Fili a smile as he exited.

"I'll see you in the morning," Thorin warned his nephew before leaving as well, though Fili wasn't sure if his uncle was heading for bed or the spread the news that he was all but under house arrest for the foreseeable future.

Looking between her sons and untangling her fingers from Kili's hair, Dis finally stepped away, "Try to get some sleep.  You've had a long day, both of you."

"Good night, mother," Fili murmured and Kili echoed it. Reaching out, Fili pulled her into a quick, but careful embrace before stepping back. "Sleep well."

Dis offered her son a faint smile, "Good night, my sons."

They both watched her go and the door close before Fili pulled his shift off with a hiss of pain.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said all I--" Kili started and looked over. "Jesus _Christ_ , Fili."

"They're just bruises," Fili said, dropping the shirt with distaste. "I'm going to take a shower," he added before Kili could get anything else out. After he disappeared, Kili sank into the armchair, waiting for him to come back out.

A short while later, he emerged, hair hanging wet around his face as he weaved over to the bed, collapsing on his stomach and fully intending to rebraid everything in the morning. "You should get to sleep," he said, turning his head to look at Kili, who'd moved to the doorway of the bedroom.

Kili moved over instead, sitting down on the bed next to Fili, who tracked him with his eyes. "God," Kili said, hand hovering over the bruises before touching Fili's nose, making his brother wince. "I'm sorry."

"We'll just all be more careful now," Fili murmured and froze when Kili moved again to practically straddle his back. "Kili?" he asked, sounding more strained than he liked.

Instead of answering, Kili pushed his hair around until he could gather come up at the base of his neck. "I told mother I would do that myself," Fili said.

"Shut up," Kili muttered, fingers weaving around the hair and pulling it into the complicated plait. Fili wished his nose didn't hurt so much so he could bury his face in the pillow in front of him as he concentrated on breathing. "You should at least always have this."

When Kili was done he paused before sliding away, Fili not moving from his stomach. "Fili," Kili said after a moment and Fili hummed to show he was listening. "Can I stay here tonight?"

"You usually sleep in my apartment," Fili murmured.

"No," Kili said. "I mean, _here_."

Hesitating, Fili titled his head enough to look at his brother, where his cheek was bruised and nodded slightly. Letting out a breath, Kili pulled his coat and shirt off, sliding into the bed. As Fili listened to his brother breathe, he decided it was worth it to not sleep that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear this story isn't just an excuse to beat up Fili. He's just young, relatively inexperienced, but just experienced enough to walk himself into constant trouble.
> 
> (Edited September 13, 2017)


	3. He Smiles More and Looks Longer

Bilbo entered class the next morning, sitting down in the seat he'd established as his for the last week, next to Fili's normal desk, and pulling out his notes to skim over them one last time before the exam. Fili came in moments later, moving carefully to sink down into the desk rather than the usual graceless sprawl he affected. His brother had helped him with the rest of his braids in the morning before Kili declared that he at least fully intended to stay home from school that day. No one insisted he go.

Glancing over, Bilbo blinked for a long moment, "Good heavens, what happened to you?"

"Alley fight," Fili said and paused. "Or rather, alleyway beating. It's fine."

"Right, because you look so very fine," Bilbo responded dryly, putting his notebook away.

Fili paused. "It's nothing I can't handle. Just backlash from idiots and assholes."

Professor Elrond entered the classroom at that moment, pausing when he saw Fili, his hand rising to cover his mouth briefly, though he shifted it to run along his jaw line.  Discarding the first eighteen things to come into his mind he finally spoke, "Thank you for making it today, Fili.  If you need to make arrangements regarding the rest of the course, we can certainly work something out."

Staring at him for a long moment, Fili shook his head. "I don't need any special privilege, but thank you."

Elrond's eyebrow arched sharply at that, taking in his student's battered state, but he nodded, "Of course." He inclined his head and started toward the front of the classroom.

Bilbo glanced at Fili, "Are...are you sure you should be coming into class frequently?"

Fili returned the look. "As thrilled as my brother is for the excuse to stay home, I'd rather not settle into a siege or even a trapped mentality."

Considering that for a long moment, Bilbo nodded, "Alright. I can see why, certainly. Is your family going to let you out enough for class, I suppose becomes the question?"

"I don't believe they quite understand the numerous ways to slip past them," Fili said under his breath.

"Oh that sounds exceptionally wise," his classmate responded, eyebrows rising.

Fili simply gave him a long look. "Wisdom," he said, shaking his head. "Is so clearly something I have in spades."

w-w-w

Elrond shuffled the tests together, slipping them into a folder and then into his bag before ascending the stairs and pausing next to Fili, "You have a route home that doesn't involve either walking or public transportation, I rather hope?"

A brief look of annoyance passed over Fili's face and he nodded. "Yes, my uncle has insisted upon ferrying me back and forth."

"A wise man," Elrond replied.  "I hope you and Mr. Baggins don't mind if I accompany you at least part of the way out."

Bilbo's eyebrows rose and he shook his head.  For his part he didn't mind, though he was pretty sure that Fili didn't share that sentiment.

"So long as you realize that puts you in close proximity to my uncle," Fili said after a moment with a careful shrug.

"I hold no ill-will toward your uncle, whether he holds it toward me or not," the professor responded, stepping back to give more space for them to exit the row and the room. Fili gave him a long look before nodding and shouldering the bag he'd brought, not quite suppressing his wince.

He walked out of the classroom gingerly, hating how many people were seeing him do it. But he put that out of his mind as they exited the building in a small clump and found his uncle waiting out on the curb.

Thorin stood leaning against the car, arms crossed and glowering heavily at the world around him. The stare only intensified as they approached. "Professor," he said, voice much lower as he looked at Fili as if to figure out why Elrond was there.

Elrond arched an eyebrow and inclined his head, "Mr. Oakenshield.  I wanted to offer my apologies for what I can only assume is Thranduil's unreasonable pursuit of you and yours."

One of Thorin’s heavy brows rose as well. "I presume he is doing his job," he said, inclining his head slightly. "Though the thought is appreciated."

"His job," Elrond carefully suppressed a sneer.  "Of course, one would never imagine him doing otherwise."

Thorin nodded, a tiny, bitter smile on his face. "It would be one of the first times," he said. "But so long as things are cleared up in the end, it shall turn out alright."

The professor nodded very slightly, "I wish you and yours luck and safety until this passes."

"Thank you," Thorin said, though he looked almost confused by such words coming from the professor.

Elrond inclined his head and glanced at Fili, "Good day to you all."

"Good day," Fili mumbled as Thorin looked over at him.

"Did the test go well?" he asked, expression warming somewhat now Elrond was gone and he could lay his eyes on his nephew again.

Bilbo's hand coiled around the strap of his bag, "It wasn't as overwhelming as some of his prior students made it sounds like it would be."

"Besides," Fili added with a faint smile. "Most of it was about symbolism. I think Balin would cry for a week if I didn't pass it, let alone what you or mother would do to me."

Thorin blinked at him once before smiling. "One would hope you understand symbolism," he agreed.

"So to sum up, all in all it seems to have gone well.  One never knows until they're graded, but it didn't seem to go poorly," Bilbo remarked, glancing at Fili rather than focus on Thorin.

Thorin arched a brow at that and Fili nodded. "Though, sorry for rushing out Saturday."

His classmate blinked at him, "You had far more pressing matters than an exam at that point."

"Still," he said, "I'd rather not break commitments." Thorin, still leaning against the car, watched his nephew's motions carefully and wanted to growl at how clear it was that he hurt.

"Really, it was no trouble to me," Bilbo insisted, looking the other over.  "Though you're looking like returning home might be a good idea on your part."

Fili scowled but Thorin just nodded. "Yes," he agreed, looking around as several students milling around gave them dark looks. "I think it is time to go home." He glanced at Bilbo. "Do you require a ride anywhere?"

"I was just headed home, it's not a far walk," Bilbo answered, shaking his head.

"Are you certain?" Thorin asked.

"I," he paused, darting a look toward where a handful of students were gathered, dark looks directed at Fili and Thorin.  "You know, I think I will take you up on that ride, actually."

Lifting a brow at the students and then Bilbo, Thorin simply nodded, pushing himself off the side of the car. Hesitating for the briefest of moments, Bilbo stepped forward, waiting for Fili to get into the car before sliding in himself.

"And where do you live, Mr. Baggins?" Thorin asked, settling easily into the driver's seat.

"Douglas Avenue.  About six blocks from here.  I'm in the apartments on the corner of 17th," he answered.  "Thank you for this."

"It's not much," Thorin replied. "Besides, it is not often any of us are social with people outside our family." Fili choked on air but didn't disagree.

"I can't say I'm exceptionally surprised by that," Bilbo responded.

"You know, there's a part of me that resents that," Fili said, looking over and then remembered his track record of actually seeing other students on campus that wasn't part of his lunches with Ori. He usually spend those listening to Ori talk about his latest projects and wonder at the people who considered Ori the terribly quiet or shy type.

Bilbo glanced the blond, "As long as it's only a part."

“Alright, maybe we're not always the most sociable types," Fili said and shrugged carefully.

Thorin chuckled and Fili cast a baleful look at the back of his head. "Not that you're particularly know for being social yourself, uncle."

"Certainly not," Thorin agreed. "But I do understand what it means to be polite."

Bilbo's gaze moved to Thorin, "Even that only gets one so far, though."

 Thorin turned his head slightly, though he couldn't see Bilbo. "And how do you come to that conclusion?"

"Polite's all well and good, but there comes a time where the honest thing to say is actually what should be said.  And in my experience, it's rarely the polite thing," Bilbo responded.

"It is a position of privilege to be able to be honest," Thorin said.

"I certainly can't argue that point. Honesty is rarely the best choice of action in a general sense,” Bilbo said.

"And yet you would support it," Thorin said as a statement rather than ask it as a question.

"Would you not?"  Bilbo responded, eyebrows rising very slightly.

"If it is a question of protecting those that rely on me or being honest, I would always chose to lie," Thorin said. "If it was a question of surviving in a place like this? I would bite my tongue and do the work required." Even if the resentment would burn a hole in his chest.

"Both admirable reasons to dispose of honesty.  I've never argued honesty as something to be applied across the board, but there are occasions where it is more effective than a lie."

Thorin huffed out a breath, Fili shifting against the seat slightly and choosing only to listen. "And where might that be?"

"A situation where you have an honest to god verifiable alibi," Bilbo offered.

Both Fili and Thorin frowned. "What?" Fili asked.

Bilbo glanced at Fili, "I would say that what I said was clearly heard by the both of you and rather self-explanatory. I'm not an idiot.  I was there when your brother showed up on Saturday and I read the paper on Sunday.  Your alibi until midnight on Friday is myself and Gandalf."

Fili blinked once. "That's a very specific example of when to be honest," he said.

"There is still the question of the others who were not there," Thorin rumbled from the front. "Such as my sister. But what you say is appreciated."

Bilbo's attention was drawn back to Thorin, "I wish there was more to be done in that regard."

"Then somewhere in there, you are an optimist," Thorin said, shaking his head slightly. "The world tends not to give out many favors."

“That's because fate's a sadistic bastard," Bilbo responded.

That earned a chuckle from Thorin and a considering look from Fili. "It's not so bad as that," Fili said and his body protested that it was exactly that bad considering how much the bruises along his spine and stomach were hurting.

Bilbo's expression was skeptical when he looked Fili over, "Those bandages on your neck say otherwise."

Fili shifted, suddenly glad that Bilbo wouldn't fully understand what it meant to have an idiot with a knife cut off one of his braids. "That was just one person," he said.

"Which could just as easily have been ten," Bilbo replied.

"But wasn't," Fili said. "So it's fine."

His friend looked briefly skeptical, but rolled a shoulder, "If you say so.  Will you be in class later this week?"

"Why wouldn't I be in class?" Fili returned.

Bilbo rolled a shoulder, "Just thought I'd double check.  If you end up having a time you can't make, you know I take copious notes."

"I'll keep that in mind," Fili said after a moment. "Thank you."

"You're quite welcome," Bilbo answered, glancing out the window as they pulled up in front of his apartment building.

Fili paused. "If I don't make it to class for whatever reason, it might be nice to assume I need those notes."

"I'll make sure to keep it in mind.  We'd probably better sort out a way for you to get the notes in that situation."

"Stop by the apartment building," Thorin offered and Fili looked half surprised for a moment before nodding his agreement.

Blinking at that offer, Bilbo smiled faintly, "That could certainly work, though I've no idea where your building is."

"That's easily solved," Fili said, flipping through his bag before pulling out a pen and notepad. Scribbling the address, he glanced up once to look at where Thorin had turned slightly and then at Bilbo before adding rudimentary directions.

Bilbo accepted the slip of paper.  "Thank you.  And thank you for the ride as well."

Thorin nodded, expression grave and Fili offered Bilbo a smile before sliding out of the car with him to join his uncle at the front. Waiting for Bilbo to enter the building, Thorin pulled away again.

"Alright, that was just odd," Fili said, propping his elbow on the car door and Thorin hummed without looking over.

"I truly have no idea what you mean."

"Sure you don't," Fili huffed, shaking his head slightly and not pushing.

w-w-w

Bilbo made it up to his apartment, closing the door and leaning against it.  His eyes shut as he reminded himself of things like propriety and the fact that he bore the Baggins name and he had no business feeling remotely aflutter at a certain timbre of voice.  Especially not when the person with that voice was his classmate's uncle.

w-w-w

Elrond sipped at his coffee, looking at his Thranduil over the edge of his cup, "You know, cousin, your investigation has caused quite the stir.  And frankly, the backlash against Oakenshield's people is atrocious."

Thranduil let out a huff of breath, shaking his head, fine blond hair falling around his face. Pushing it back in annoyance he met his cousin's eyes. "That was what I worried about."

"Did you know I have one of his nephews in my morning class?  The lad came in looking like he'd gone three rounds with a brick wall," Elrond watched Thranduil.  "I have to ask what you thought would happen when you decided to question Oakenshield's lot and only them."

Thranduil sighed. "We have no other leads," he pointed out, one finger lifting from the coffee cup that he dangled from one hand. "I told Bard that the entire town was going to go ballistic if we questioned them, and that they wouldn't be nearly so damn stupid as to leave a body like that on a massacre. But they're _all_ we have, and even if we picked others up now the press wouldn't care, and thus the populace wouldn't care."

Elrond pinched the bridge of his nose, "And when the populace decides to drag one or more of them out and lynch them?"

"Has it really gotten that bad?" Thranduil frowned.

"Did I mention my student? He had bandages on his neck, I'm pretty certain his nose was broken, oh, and for all his paranoia I still consider it remarkable that Thorin Oakenshield was there to pick the lad up from his exam."  Elrond shook his head, "It may not be there yet, but I don't expect it not to reach that point."

Scowling, Thranduil knocked back the rest of his coffee, setting the cup down on the table. "Which student?" he asked.

Curling his hand around the side of his coffee cup, Elrond answered, "Fili.  His eldest nephew I believe."

Thranduil nodded, not having much difficulty imaging the brash youth who'd glared at him getting himself shoved around. "If he's willing to talk to me about who did it or anything, I might be able to get some report out about it. See if it guilts anyone into admitting anything or backing off."

"Oh yes, because any of them are likely to talk to the police, much less you, Cousin," Elrond drawled in response.

"It's unlikely, but worth a shot," Thranduil said. "Besides, if anyone beat him up that's technically a crime."

"And how much effort and attention would likely be devoted to it should they report it?  I can't imagine much, considering the scheme of this town."

Thranduil's eyes narrowed slightly. "Was that a stab at me, dear cousin?"

"You take offense too easily, Thranduil.  I simply meant that considering the violence that takes place in this town I can't see much attention being paid to one from Erebor who got his face bashed in," Elrond held up a hand placatingly, though some part of him had been directing the prior comment toward Thranduil specifically as well.

Thranduil shook his head slightly, shoving his blond hair back again. "You're too kind to them. You act like they're entirely innocent. Even if they didn't do this, they're still rum runners and thieves and killers."

"And you act as though they're guilty of everything," Elrond protested in response.  "There's little doubt that they're a brutal lot, or that they work far outside the law, but that doesn't mean they deserve what's likely to come of this."

"Then use those people skills you're supposed to hand," Thranduil said, wrangling his fingers at Elrond. "And convince them to help the investigation. Bringing an end to this is the only way they're going to get off any hooks."

Elrond's eyes narrowed and he set his coffee cup down more firmly on the table than he had intended, "Because they have every reason to trust that you'll listen when they bring you evidence, of course."

Thranduil laughed and in another situation it could have been an attractive sound. "Not in the least. But they need any port in the storm they can find, don't you think?"

"Perhaps they do, but I can't see them taking that one." Elrond shook his head, "They're too insular."

"Then that's their problem and not mine," Thranduil replied.

The front door opened and Thranduil's teenage son entered, starting into the front room before seeing his father and Elrond and starting to leave again.

"Oi," Thranduil called, gesturing Legolas to come in. "You're home late."

Grimacing, he re-entered the room, "Afternoon, Ada. Cousin Elrond."

Elrond inclined his head to the youth, his lips twitching very slightly at the choice of courtesy rather than answering Thranduil's implicit question.

Thranduil hummed, rising to get another cup of coffee. "That's a nice trick," he said. "And the answer to where you where?"

"I was waylaid by bandits who stopped the carriage of a fine lady, I could hardly allow her to come to harm," Legolas answered, straight-faced.

Thranduil blinked once before frowning over at his son. "You must be practicing for a career as a wit."

"What does it matter where I was? I'm home in one piece and it's not dark yet."

"Indulge a curious father," Thranduil drawled.

"I was talking after school with some friends, lost track of time and missed the bus," Legolas answered, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Right," his father drawled.

"Honest to god," Legolas swore.  Not that he was going to admit to exactly who the friend he'd been talking to had been.

"And are you still getting into fights with that one boy?" Thranduil asked.

"Which one?" came the reply with a wide-eyed innocent look.

"Legolas," Thranduil said, a note of warning entering his voice. "That--son of Gloin or whatever the rum runner's name is."

"Oh, right, the one who I will never be able to claim any sort of peace with now that you interrogated his entire family?  Yes, father, we're still getting into fights."  Legolas kept his expression clear, though he thought he saw Elrond hide a smile behind what he would guess was actually an empty cup.

The corner of Thranduil's mouth twitched and he inclined his head. "And will you actually be joining me for dinner or would you rather stay upstairs and pout?"

Legolas appeared to be considering those options before he shrugged, "I've no reason to stay upstairs and pout, so I think I'll be joining you."

"Excellent," Thranduil inclined his head, looking back at Elrond. "Would you stay to dinner as well or does your family require your attention?"

"I should probably make certain that my children aren't tying each other's hair to the banister," Elrond replied, rising easily from where he was seated.  "Thank you for the coffee, and the offer of dinner, Thranduil."

"Any time, cousin," Thranduil said. Elrond's lips curled into a faint smile and he offered, Legolas a muted farewell, bidding his cousin a good night before leaving.

Legolas watched Elrond go before looking at his father, "So, are you continuing your interrogation, or have you had your fill of grilling minors this week?"

"There was only one minor among them," Thranduil said. "I haven't had a chance to call Gimli in yet, or the Bombur brood. Why, is there something I _should_ be grilling you about?

"No," he answered, careful not to answer too quickly. "And I'm sure you'll find time eventually to grill them too, and then won't school be fun."

"Isn't it already?"

"Oh always, didn't you know I look forward to going to school with people who believe my father has a vendetta against them?"

"There's not that many of them, and it's a large school," Thranduil pointed out and paused. "It is hardly a vendetta."

"And the rest of the school's snarling about them, it's a wonderful atmosphere there."  Legolas looked skeptical, "They think it is."

"They are mostly idiots," Thranduil said, shaking his head as he glanced toward the kitchen with a frown, not actually desiring to cook that evening.

"You dismiss them really easily," Legolas's eyes narrowed, but he started toward the kitchen.

"It is nothing but the truth," his father said, trailing behind him. "How many of them have you spoken to regularly anyway?"

"A handful of them, like you said, there aren't many at the school."  He dug through the icebox, looking for something that could be thrown together easily and eaten quickly.

"Then you really have no idea," Thranduil shook his head. "They grow stupider with numbers."

"Which means their opinions don't matter?"

"What stupid opinions should matter?" Thranduil asked and shook his head. "What are you seeking for me to say?"

Legolas turned, "I dunno.  But you talk about them like they're lesser that us.  Hell, that just doesn't seem like it's all that intelligent."

"What is it with everyone today?" Thranduil muttered, shaking his head. "Why is everyone trying so hard to defend them?"

"I'm not trying that hard," Legolas replied, pulling some cheese and cold cuts out of the ice box along with some vegetables for a salad.

"Then why is everyone pestering?" Thranduil sighed.

Legolas located the bread loaf, setting to work on two sandwiches, "It's not like I can say anything at school. And it was building up all day."

Leaning against the counter, Thranduil sighed, the sound soft in the room. "I am trying, you know. To figure this out. It wasn't my intent for the press to ever find it."

"Intent doesn't mean much with this," Legolas replied, though the reply was quieter than anything else he'd said that evening. He paused for a long moment, "I know you didn't mean for it to happen, Ada, but it did."

"And it happened as I did my job and my duty," Thranduil replied. "So I do not regret it."

Legolas considered replying to that, but decided that if he was going to the length of actually joining his father for dinner he might as well not say anything further.  He finished preparing the sandwiches and salad and handed a plate to his father, crossing to sit at the table and preparing to retreat upstairs as soon as they were done. With a quiet sigh, Thranduil joined him, if not content in the quiet certainly not wishing to disrupt it.

w-w-w

Dwalin leaned against the stairs, having seen Fili go flying upstairs once he was home, Kili already trailing after him. Eating an apple he considered Gloin heading for the still in the basement, and Bifur calmly carving a toy across the lobby. Everyone was home, for the moment, and hopefully that meant they were safe.

Dis came down the stairs, having passed her sons on their way up.  She looked over her shoulder in that direction, shaking her head slightly.  Her gaze moved around the entry hall, Bombur was perched near Bifur and making the occasional comment regarding the way the carving was shaping up.  Dis paused when she saw Dwalin, offering him a faint smile.

"Ma'am," Dwalin said, still eating the apple.

"Dwalin.  How are you this afternoon?"

"So well as can be expected," he said, lifting his shoulders. "Your sons seem to be getting themselves into the same troubles."

She shook her head, looking back up the stairs again, "Oh, do you have some explanation for why Fili bolted upstairs this time?"

"Thorin ferried him to school and back," Dwalin replied. "It must rankle a fair bit."

Dis sighed, "A fair bit is rather an understatement.  He's fortunate to be out of the building at all."

“Aye," Dwalin agreed. "But that will rankle even more. Soon enough I suspect they'll both be sneaking out the back and making breaks for even worse situations."

"I hope they do me the favor of waiting a few days at the very least before doing that," Dis murmured, trying to keep her expression clear at that thought.

Dwalin snorted. "Two days, perhaps," he said, "And that would be out of respect."

"No matter how much I understand the reasoning, or lack of, behind that, I wish they wouldn't," Dis shook her head, leaning against the wall.  "Only so much I can do though, with Fili a grown man now."

"Well," Dwalin offered after a moment. "Kili's not, but good luck separating the two of them from each other let alone what trouble they're about to get into."

"Exactly.  They've been inseparable since they could both walk.  All I can do is trust that they'll watch out for one another."

Considering that, Dwalin shrugged, finishing the apple. "They haven't been doing such a good job of that, but there's always hope for improvement."

"They were trained by the best men we have," she replied. "And they've kept each other alive thus far."

"Alive," he agreed. "But the last three times they've been allowed out together--or with Bofur for that matter," he said, clearly not having that much faith in the other. "Fili has come back with a gunshot wound he tried to hide, they got picked up by the police and they got their wee asses handed to them by a group of thugs," he paused, realizing who he was speaking to and internally wincing. "Training is not what they need anymore."

Dis leveled him with a long look, "No.  Training is not what they need.  What they need now is to learn caution.  I only hope the price of the lesson isn't more costly than we can afford."

Dwalin managed to bite back the comment that what they needed was a lick of sense between the two of them, nodding instead. "Yes, ma'am. We'll hope they've figured it out after this," he said, glancing up the stairs. "Kili, at the very least, seemed to take at least something to heart."

Her gaze followed his and she shook her head, "Now if only his brother would. But I'll gain nothing by worrying beyond gray hairs."

Dwalin inclined his head at that. "Perhaps not. Though if you attempted to wheedle a promise out of them to stay inside, it might stall them for a few days."

"But then they would feel horrendously guilty for breaking it when they finally did leave," she sighed.  "I do have to admit that's tempting if only to keep them home for a few days longer."

"We all do what we must to keep people safe," Dwalin said, voice a shade gruffer than usual as he tilted his head back to look up the stairs rather than at the woman beside him.

"Even if that means extracting promises that will be broken," Dis murmured.  She offered a weary smile then, "Two days as you said earlier.  It's better than none."

"If you get them to swear something to you, it might even make it up to four."

Dis' brown eyes moved to the stairs and she shook her head slightly, murmuring, "Am I foolish to hope that my sons will see thirty?"

"It's never a foolish hope," he replied. "And with luck it will succeed. Thorin you and I have all seen thirty, and past that."

Her lips curled upward at that, "Though I attribute that fact to sheer luck some days."

"More like skill," he huffed and didn't add that skill required one living enough to learn it.

"Luck until the skill came, then?" Dis offered, raising a dark eyebrow very slightly.

"Perhaps," he agreed after a moment. "The world was certainly not kinder then."

"No, it was not." Dis sighed softly, shaking her head, "But we made it through that.  And we _should_ make it through this."

"Aye, we should," he agreed. "In a world that does as it should, we shall make it. Your sons," he started and tried to find the right word as intelligent was not it. "Should do fine," he settled for. "They have many people watching them, and at the very least they know people care for them, which makes people more careful."

Drawing a deep breath, Dis nodded very slightly, "I only hope that holds true.  I do not wish to bury either of my children."

Dwalin hesitated as he watched her, deciding it was high time her sons got another lecture on exactly why they were supposed to stay safe. "Aye," he murmured, not quite looking at her and instead surveying the lobby again. "I don't believe any of us want to bury them."

Trying to be quiet as he passed the pair, Bofur descended the stairs, scanning the entry and crossing to his cousin's side, "The carving seems to be coming along well.  Are you joining us for dinner tonight?" Bifur glanced up at him sideways and grunted, looking like he'd rather shake his head.

"Bombur and his family are doing the cooking, and the children were asking so I thought I'd come down and check.  We'd like to see you tonight," Bofur pressed, giving his cousin a smile.

At the mention of the children, Bifur's shoulders twitched and he gave his cousin a look like he'd betrayed him, or told him there was a kitten somewhere in the rain he was hurting.

Bofur's smile seemed more of a grin in that moment, "Come on.  Just for a little while.  Bombur's making sure there's enough room at the table and everything, but if we're not quick the food might well be gone before we get back up there."

Grunting, Bifur rose, tucking his carving knife away in his jacket and considering what he'd been working on before nodding firmly and following Bofur up the stairs, nodding to Dwalin who returned it solemnly.

Bofur scurried ahead of his cousin, pausing every so often to glance back and make certain that Bifur was actually still there.  As such he reached the door to Bombur's apartment only a few steps ahead and opened the door with a cry of, "I found him, as long as you haven't finished without us." Bifur stared at his back hard enough to bore a hole there as a cry went up from the table, several of Bombur's children bounding over to swarm their quieter cousin, as he didn't often appear for family gatherings.

Bofur shrugged off the look, side-stepping to avoid most of the children.  Bombur rose from where he'd already seated himself, crossing the room to offer Bifur a smile, "We're glad you made it tonight, Bifur."

Bifur finally smiled, black and white streaked beard already being pulled on by some of the younger children. He allowed himself to be led to the table and sat down, with one of Bombur's brood taking up residence in his lap. Casting his eyes around the table he tried to find where the green food might have been stashed away.

Green food was in short supply at the table, but Bombur saw his cousin's look and passed the salad to his eldest child who handed it to Bifur with a quiet, "It's good to see you, Cousin Bifur."  She was a girl of perhaps fifteen who still had the eagle he'd carved for her when she was small sitting next to her bed.

Bifur beamed at her, as she was one of the more quiet of his family. Saying something in a garbled language he happily accepted the salad even as the youngest tugged at his beard. She smiled and nodded slightly, making certain that the little boy on her other side wasn't making too much of a mess with his food.  The clamor around the dinner table was a sort of barely controlled chaos, and an outsider looking in would hardly be able to tell that all but a small number of the littlest of them were well aware of the dangers outside their door.

w-w-w

Friday after class, Bilbo stepped off of the city bus a couple of blocks from the apartment building Fili had given him directions to.  He blinked a couple of times at the hand painted sign in front of the building which read "The Blue Mountains" and made a note to ask Fili about it.  Making his way to the front door he hesitated, considered whether it wouldn’t simply be better to wait and see if they came into the restaurant that night, and decided he was being ridiculous since he was already standing on the front step.  He pushed the door open and paused just inside the entry.

Bifur's eyes snapped up from where he was in his usual perch, and Nori paused on the staircase, having been heading out for groceries. "Can we help you?" Nori asked, suspicious.

"I," Bilbo's gaze focused on Nori and he nodded, "I hope so.  I have the class notes for the last few days for Fili?"

"Fili," Nori repeated as several eyes peered down from the first landing, several of Bombur's children sitting with their faces against the railing. One of them scurried up to the next landing to knock on Fili's door. "And who might you be then?" Nori asked, continuing to watch Bilbo closely.

"Bilbo Baggins," he answered steadily, finally recognizing the other man as one of the ones from the dinner.  "We met last Friday night when you lot came in to Gandalf's."

"Right," Nori said, brightening slightly past his hang over, courtesy of Gloin and Bofur the night before. "Yes, of course that's you."

Managing not to breathe a sigh of relief as he was recognized, Bilbo offered a bit of a smile, "How are your brothers?"  He'd managed to decipher most of the kinships through that evening.

"Good," Nori said and paused. "Better than some," he shrugged, moving to the side as Fili appeared at the landing, hair a bit wild around his face still and only in rolled up shirtsleeves and a vest.

"Bilbo," he said, in some surprise to see the other there, Bombur's children clustering around his legs.

Bilbo offered Fili a smile an held up a notebook, "Class notes. I told you I'd get them to you if you missed any sessions, remember?"

"Of course," Fili said with a smile, continuing down the stairs as Kili appeared, leaning against the railing.

Crossing the foyer to the foot of the stairs, Bilbo nodded, "So, if you like, I can leave the notebook with you.  I'm going to have to get to work in a couple of hours.  Or we can go over what I remember of the lectures in addition to the notes."

"That'd be nice," Fili said, pushing his hair out of his face from where it was not fully braided, making shooing motions at the children still watching them.

"Wonderful, well like I said I have a few hours," Bilbo responded.  "Where shall we go over them?"

"Upstairs," Fili said when none of the children dissipated, Nori shaking his head as he walked out the door. "Definitively upstairs. Come on."

Bilbo chuckled, stepping around a couple of the smallest children as he followed Fili back upstairs to the other's apartment. Fili shut the door in several interested faces. "I'm not sure I was actually expecting you to come, but thank you."

"I told you I would and I try not to break my word. I didn't expect to see you lot tonight, so I figured I should bring the notes by before work," Bilbo answered with a shrug.

Fili paused, tilting his head. "Actually, I think I heard Dwalin grumbling something earlier about being stupid to go out and uncle replying that large groups were safer so you might see us yet."

That earned a long blink, "Really?  Well, I may have to give Gandalf warning that we might have your party tonight then."

"He usually expects us," Fili said, sitting on one of the creaky chairs next to the table smashed next to the kitchenette, fingers working to finish the braids he'd been working on. "I don't have many seats to offer, but it's quieter here."

Bilbo settled into the other chair, offering it a glance at the groan the wood gave, "It'll do just fine."  He set the notebook down on the table, "How has your family been doing since last I saw you?"

"The same for the most part, though Gloin got himself into a scuffle his wife hasn't forgiven him for quite yet," Fili said. "Though nothing like what I stepped face first into."

"I'm glad to hear nothing severe has happened at least, this week," Bilbo responded.  Thumbing through the notebook and he located the right lectures.

Fili flipped through the notes, considering as he finished the last braid. Kili stomped into the apartment, having lifted some tea off Dori in the interest of being a good host, except that he stomped around the kitchenette to prepare it before stomping into the bedroom.

"At least nothing severe I know of," Fili added, eyeing the tea kettle.

Dark grey eyes having followed Kili's progress, Bilbo arched his eyebrows, "Well, that's good.  Is...is your brother doing alright?"

"I'll let you know when I find out," Fili said under his breath, turning over the notes again.

Bilbo nodded very slightly, turning his attention to the notes and setting in to explaining what Elrond had been lecturing on for the missed class sessions.

By the time they were done going over the notes, Fili looked like he'd rather go back to sleep. "Any ideas when he'll hand the test back?" he said, shaking his head slightly to wake himself up and taking the empty tea cups back into the kitchenette.

"He was indicating that it'll be either late next week or early the one following," Bilbo rubbed his eyes and stretched his back.

Fili hummed, glancing first at Bilbo and then the door his brother had closed a while ago. "If you intend to come over every day I miss, you're going to spend a lot of time here. You really don't have to."

"I don't mind, unless you do," Bilbo answered, rolling his shoulder in a half-shrug.  "It's not a bad place to pass an afternoon or several, after all."

"If you say so," Fili said, arching a brow in disbelief before shaking his head.

"I do in fact," Bilbo glanced at the clock and rose, the chair creaking in protest. "That was quite the flock of children gathered round you earlier."

"Mostly Bombur's," Fili said, looking over his shoulder when a knock came. "Yeah? Who is it?"

"Fili, have you seen Kili?" Thorin asked, pushing the door open and stopping when he saw Bilbo, blinking once.

Bilbo turned enough to see Thorin and offered the man a bit of a smile, "I think he closed himself in the bedroom a little under an hour ago."

"Right," Thorin said and blinked again, looking at Fili. "Why?"

"If you can figure that out, I'd actually like to know myself," Fili shrugged, sleeves still rolled up to his elbows.

"He provided us with tea and slammed his way into there," Bilbo closed his notebook, picking it up from the table.

Thorin gave Fili a long look before shaking his head slightly before looking back at Bilbo. "How long have you been here, Mr. Baggins?"

"About forty minutes, perhaps forty-five," the younger man answered easily.

He paused again, looking between the two. "Did Fili miss class?" he asked mildly.

Bilbo glanced at Fili, having assumed his uncle would be aware if he had missed class, "Yes, actually."

"Oh," he said and Fili busied himself with the tea kettle.

"So I brought the notes for this morning's class by, since I wasn't certain to see you all tonight," Bilbo explained.

Thorin's brows twitched together but he inclined his head. "Understandable," he said, "though I would rather try to keep things are normal as we may."

Bilbo blinked once at that, before smiling again, "Well, I'm glad to know we'll have the pleasure of your company again tonight then."

"Gandalf would go out of business, most like, if we stopped coming," Thorin said before sliding away to find Kili like he intended, shutting the door behind him.

Bilbo watched him go, head tilted slightly to one side as he tried to remind himself of which side of the family he was desperately trying to emulate, "I'm trying to figure out if I should be offended on Gandalf's behalf, but I think he might be right."

"We eat a lot of food," Fili said, leaning against the counter. "Enough that I think he orders specially for us. It'd probably at least throw off his budget for a while."

Drawing his gaze away from where Thorin had disappeared, Bilbo nodded, "Considering the orders I've seen him give to have food on Friday?  It would most assuredly throw off his budget.  I'm not sure what he'd do with himself if you all didn't come in."

"Have a quiet night with red wine and realize he hated it," Fili laughed.

That garnered a laugh from Bilbo, "A quiet night, I doubt he even knows what to do with those, really."

"He'd probably ring around eleven and ask us when we're coming," Fili continued the joke even though his eyes were on the door.

"Oh he'd be bored out of his skull long before then," Bilbo assured him.

"So, really, we're just going to save him from himself," Fili said, still distracted.

Bilbo nodded, "Exactly."  His gaze drifted back to the bedroom door, "Is everything alright?"

"What?" Fili's eyes snapped back to him. "Oh. I don't know."

"Does he often speak to one or the other of you alone?"

"No," Fili said. "Of course, Kili usually doesn't lock himself in my bedroom either nor do I get my face slammed into a brick wall." He rolled his shoulders as if to simply say things had been odd.

"In other words, what's one more strange thing this week?"

"Something like that," he agreed, looking back at Bilbo and trying not to dwell on it.

Bilbo drew his gaze away from the door again, "So does your brother share your apartment then?"

"Unofficially," Fili shrugged. "I was going to have an actual study but he took that over."

"Where does he officially live, then?"

"With mother," Fili said, smile tiny. "Most of his stuff is here though. It doesn't matter in some ways, being all of a floor down from her, but," he paused, considering what he could say carefully. "Having one's own space is different." He didn't say that he'd been trying to put space between himself and Kili, but when Kili had simply followed any resolve he'd built had crumbled around his ears and his brother had stayed.

Bilbo nodded after a moment, watching Fili closely, "I suppose I can see what you mean.  He spends most of his time here, though I take it?"

"Usually," Fili agreed, frowning back at him. "Why?"

"Just curious.  He doesn't seem too much like me and if I end up going over notes with you again I figure it's good to be aware is all," Bilbo answered with a shrug.  If he was being honest, Kili seemed almost less like he didn't like him and more like he might be jealous, though of what exactly Bilbo couldn't say.  

"It'll be fine," Fili replied, not entirely believing it as Thorin emerged, glancing between the pair of them.

"You're brother is reading a book," Thorin said and sounded as confused as Fili looked. "There isn't anything in that room that he should not be reading, is there?"

"Not that I'm aware of?" Fili offered, confusion on his face increasing and Thorin hummed.

Blinking rapidly, Bilbo looked between them, "I take it that reading isn't a common practice?"

"Not generally," Fili said.

"And there are things he shouldn't be reading?  How old is he?" Bilbo asked, trying to think of things that he would classify as something that shouldn't be read by someone who looked like he might be just about a legal adult.

Thorin and Fili exchanged a long look. "He's still seventeen and in high school," Fili said finally.

Arching an eyebrow he nodded again, deciding that mentioning what he'd read by the time he was seventeen was probably not the best plan.  Admittedly he'd kept those books well hidden from his parents, and he still hadn't confessed to some of them, "Ah, well, if that's the case."

Fili and Thorin exchanged another look, not wanting to see Dis' fury like the last time she'd caught either of the brother's with a book they shouldn't have been reading. "Yes, well," Fili said, shrugging helplessly and Thorin returned his gaze to Bilbo.

Bilbo shifted very slightly under Thorin's look, but met his eyes for a long moment before looking toward the door, "So 'The Blue Mountains'?"

"It was a place where we used to live," Thorin said and paused. "I still have no idea who painted that sign."

"A good place or ill?" Bilbo asked after a moment, uncertain if it was a subject he should pursue.

"Good, if bittersweet," Thorin replied as Kili reappeared out of the bedroom, joining his brother by the kitchen counter.

Bilbo glanced toward Kili briefly, but turned his attention back to Thorin, "Then I would hazard that it's a good name to use for the building?  If the memories associated aren't bad ones."

Thorin glanced at his nephews, inclining his head slightly. "It is a reminder of better times," he said. "Which is not always welcome."

"Would you have called it something else?" Bilbo asked, genuinely curious.

"Perhaps," Thorin said, "If one felt inclined to name the building at all. It is just an address."

Bilbo looked briefly surprised at that, before remembering that this wasn't the Shire where every house had a name, even if only the residents knew it, that was as much a part of it as the people who lived there, "I suppose that's true."

Thorin considered him levelly, moving his arms to cross over his chest. "Only homes should have the honor of names," he said, voice low.

"And you're not making a home here," Bilbo responded, knowing that should probably have been more of a question than it ended up being.  He shifted the notebook that he held so that it rested against his chest, his arms wrapped loosely around it, right hand on left edge and left hand on the right edge.

"Not particularly," Thorin agreed and his nephews glanced at each other.

Bilbo considered Thorin for a long moment, reminding himself that satisfying his curiosity was unnecessary.  He set that thought aside with a promise to stop after one last question, "What makes a home, then?"

Fili and Kili glanced at each other in partial alarm before looking at their uncle to try and see what answer he might possibly give.

"Things that are not here," Thorin said and both his nephews wilted slightly.

Falling silent for and deciding that he had tread far enough into those waters, Bilbo finally nodded, "Fair enough."

Thorin looked between the three of them and shook his head slightly, bracing his hands on his hips. "Is there anything else Mr. Baggins?"

Bilbo hesitated before he shook his head, "No, nothing else.  In fact I really ought to be going."

"As should I," he said after a breath before looking at his nephews. "I have business to see to, but I shall see you at dinner." He paused again, considering Fili's face. "Try to stay toward the middle of the group when you go out."

Glancing at Fili and Kili, Bilbo offered them a flickering smile, "Take care.  I'll see you later."

"Yeah, see you in a few hours," Fili agreed with a tired looking smile as Thorin followed Bilbo to the door.

Bilbo blinked very slightly at Thorin, but offered him a smile as they left. There was a part of him that wished he could convince Gandalf to let someone else wait on the company's table that night, if only so he wasn't in close proximity to Thorin any more that day.  That thought was quickly dismissed considering the situation of the past week.

w-w-w

Leaning against the door frame, Fili watched them leave. "You think uncle is acting oddly?" he asked Kili idly, Kili stopping from where he was putting the tea things back together to give Dori.

"What do you mean?" he asked, joining his brother watch Bilbo and Thorin down the stairs and out the door.

"He smiles more and looks longer," Fili said.

Kili glanced at him sideways, not quite turning his head. "Are you worried he's eyeing your catch?"

"My--what?" Fili blinked over at him.

"Well, your," Kili scowled and motioned ineffectively with one hand. "You've been rather pleased to have him over and--"

Gaping at him, Fili wanted to sink down the door frame and give into hysterical laughter. "I'm not jealous of uncle Thorin's interest if that's where you were going. Why, are you?" he couldn't help the upward snap of the last question and Kili stomped past him to take the tea back to Dori.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited September 14, 2017


	4. If You're Going I'm Going With You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the brothers pushes and the other collapses faster than a game of Jenga.

That evening, before Thorin's company arrived, Bilbo made certain the tables were arranged for them, confiscated the knives from the table settings, and kept an eye on where other people were seated in relation to the designated table. Thranduil didn't come in that night, for which the waiter breathed a sigh of relief and sent a silent prayer up that he wasn't just running late.  By the time Thorin and the others arrived, everything was set and Bilbo was prepared to run himself ragged running interference should it become necessary.

“This looks more prepared than usual," Nori said, tilting his head at the table as Gloin laughed, though that stopped once he noticed the missing knives.

Bilbo offered a smile, "We had a slower early evening than usual."  He glanced at Gloin, "I do hope the forks will suffice this week."

Making a sound of discontentment, Gloin shrugged in acceptance as Fili snickered, though he stopped when Kili sat on the other side of their uncle.

Bofur tilted his head at the lack of knives, as though trying to figure out where they went, but shook his head and sat down.  Bilbo took the drink orders and appetizer requests, pausing at the sight of Kili and Fili separated.  On his way back to the kitchen he blinked when he saw Professor Elrond enter with his three children--two grown men and a teenage girl.

Emerging a short time later, Bilbo almost swore as he saw that Elrond and his family had been seated a short distance from Thorin's table.  He drew a deep breath and crossed to the table of thirteen, setting drinks down and avoiding the fork battle that had already started.  He paused at Thorin's elbow, setting the man's coffee down for him, "If you all would like, I can take your dinner orders now and get those started when I bring the appetizers out?"  Professionalism, he reminded himself even as he realized he'd chosen possibly the wrong place to stop if that was his concern.

There was a chorus of confirmations of last week's orders, except for Nori who decided to be adventurous. "You could always keep a list of the orders," Thorin said, glancing up at him. "And check for changes instead of taking all the orders every time. Tack the list up in the kitchen."

"I may have to take that suggestion.  Might just tack it up this week for next week and following."  He glanced at Thorin, "And you're having?"

"The daily soup," Thorin said, folding the menu back up. "And a salad, as well." Across the table Fili raised his eyebrows at his brother who studiously looked to the side.

Bilbo offered a smile at that, taking the menu with a nod, "A soup and a salad it is.  I'll have the appetizers out to you all shortly."

Thorin murmured a deep thank you, eyes still tilted upward. Feeling something catch in his chest at that voice, Bilbo gave a half bow and scurried off repeating a mental mantra of "I'm a Baggins, I'm a  _Baggins_."

Balin watched him go, "He seems more scattered this week."

"Does he?" Thorin asked and Fili busied himself with his coffee cup.

"A little.  Not as inclined to conversation, moving more quickly," Balin answered.

Thorin tilted his head slightly, considering that. "Perhaps," he agreed.

Bilbo returned again, setting the appetizers down, dodging forks, and placing a basket of bread sticks within Kili's reach, "I'll have those meals out to you all in just a short while." Balin looked up at him, tilting his head on one side as he considered the waiter.

"And what are your thoughts?" Thorin asked when Bilbo retreated again, Kili looking like he'd rather throw the bread sticks than eat them at the moment.

"Less conversational, more professional.  I'm just not sure why," Balin answered, glancing at Kili.  "Is there something the matter, lad?"

"No," he said, the lure of the bread sticks too much as he started to munch on one.

Balin looked back at Thorin, echoing the other man, "What are your thoughts?"

"On the waiter?" Thorin said, attention suddenly focusing. "Should I have thoughts?"

"Not necessarily," the older man replied with a faint shrug.  "I was just wondering if you did."

"No," Thorin said, lifting one of Kili's bread sticks.

Balin didn't look like he entirely believed that, but he nodded, turning his attention away from that topic.

The conversation around the table ebbed and flowed, more subdued than the week before, though Gloin and Nori lead a cheer when Bilbo returned with the food and their knives.

Bilbo rolled his eyes slightly, but couldn't hide a smile at that reaction. Bofur quickly changed his fork for a knife, offering Bilbo a grin at the waiter's murmured, "Please don't blunt them so much this week."

"We haven't had the time," Gloin protested.

"Ah, you've figured out my plan, Master Gloin," Bilbo answered with a smile.

Gloin gave him a betrayed expression. "You planned this," he accused.

"You've really ruined his night now," Fili said.

"I did in fact plan this," Bilbo agreed.  "Terribly sorry, but I figured I'd give my co-worker a week off from sharpening the knives."

"I suppose that's a tragedy I could accept," Gloin sighed.

Bilbo offered a grin before heading to the other end of the table, "I'll see about getting you lot a couple of knives next week."

"For what, battle purposes only?" Nori laughed.

"You could always put a pile of knives away," Ori said from his older brother's elbow. "The designated blunt pile they can fight with."

"But that would take some of the fun out of it," Gloin pouted into his beard.

Bilbo glanced at Ori and inclined his head, "You know, I may have to do that.  It certainly could be a good idea."

Balin chuckled, "Would keep you from working so late on them."

Ori beamed at him, before returning to his lemonade, Nori and Gloin already waging war on Bofur across the table. Bofur yelped slightly at the sudden attack by both of them, quickly retaliating.  Bilbo shook his head, smiling faintly as he set Thorin's soup and salad down, "Is there anything else I can get you?"

"No more than what is already here," Thorin said, tone warming though he arched a brow down the table when Gloin started up a rousing battle song, several of the others joining in.

Offering Thorin another smile, Bilbo glanced down the table and blinked, but shook his head and retreated again.  At Elrond's table, Arwen excused herself and left for the washroom, leaving her brothers listening to the song at Throin's table and narrowly suppressing their smiles at it.

Listening aimlessly to the song, Kili realized he was staring at his brother across the table though Fili was grinning down the line and not watching him. Shaking his head to snap out of whatever thoughts he was in, Kili rose, hoping movement would help and meandering off.

Arwen re-emerged, starting toward her father's table and ending up intercepting Kili on her way there, "Oh, hello."

Eying her side ways, Kili grinned, shoulders relaxing slightly. "Can I help you?"

She tucked her black hair behind her ear, offering him a smile, "I don't know.  I think I've seen you around school, though?"

He considered her and the table she came from and gave her an even more blinding smile. "School, yeah. I think we have a couple classes and lunch this year."

"That's right, science and history I think?" She cut a glance back toward the tables, but dismissed both groups, even as she caught her father's gaze on them.  "You're...Kili, right?"

"Yeah," he said, nodding. "Though I'm not nearly so good with names, surprisingly."

She smiled, shaking her head, "Few people are. I'm Arwen.  Do you come here often, then?"

He suppressed the laugh that came to mind. "Weekly, let alone often," he said, shaking his head slightly.

"Wow. I mean, there's good food and all, but that seems like an awful lot," Arwen remarked, leaning very slightly toward him.

"Well, you know, traditions and stuff," he said, tilting forward slightly himself as if telling her a secret.

"Oh traditions, there's an idea I get," Arwen agreed. She spared a glance for her father's table, seeing Elrond's eyes narrowed in their direction, while her brothers merely looked amused.  "So what do you do for fun?"

"Not traditional things," he said, ignoring the look Dwalin was giving him and trying not to mind that Fili hadn't quite seemed to notice yet. At least Thorin's back was to him. "Darts sometimes, books if I can't avoid it," and so many other things he didn't want to bring up. "Bifur's been trying to teach me to carve to little effect."

"Are you any good at darts? I'd guess you have a pretty good eye?"

"Yeah," he said, not quite trying to gloat. "Pretty good and darts are easier to play than figuring out an archery range." Archery and darts were both things Thorin had handed his young nephews in an attempt to make sure they had good eyes and aim without actually ever implying he wanted them to handle guns. But if they were to, he wanted them prepared and there was no way Kili could say that in casual conversation.

"You practice archery?" Her brows rose, "That's not a talent you hear of every day."

He rolled one of his shoulders, smirk falling slightly before returning in force. "And do you like things you don't hear of every day?"

Her lips curled upward at that, nodding, "Very much so. Life would be so dull otherwise."

"And we just can't have that now, can we?"

"Dull gets very old very fast," she replied, her voice quiet as she leaned a bit closer.

"So what do you do to break it all up then?" he asked, tilting his head and trying not to think about how entirely un-dull things had been.

"I go dancing, or I give in and do some reading," Arewn answered with a slight twitch of her shoulders that may have been a shrug.

"Sounds nice enough," he managed, meeting her eyes. Across the room Fili finally looked up, having been trying to ignore whatever reason his brother had left for. Seeing Kili and Arwen his expression went blank within a second.

"It's something anyhow.  Do you ever go dancing?"  she could see her older brothers out of the corner of her eye, heads together and whispering.

"I like the idea of it," he said, dark hair falling into his eyes. "Not so sure I'm good at it."

"You seem like you'd be a quick learner, though," she offered.  "Light on your feet, moderately graceful."

He laughed. "If you say so, lady."

She smiled coyly, "Do you doubt me, sir?"

"Certainly not when you say something like that," he said. "And well, I am a rather quick learner."

"Well, would you like to find out if you like the practice of dancing as much as the idea?" she arched a dark eyebrow at him.

"Are you offering?" he asked, grinning easily again.

"Are you interested?  Because if so I'm offering," Arwen replied.

At Elrond's table, Elrohir murmured in an undertone to his twin, "Who do you think is going to break up that flirtation first?  Father, Thorin, or the blond man at the other table?"

Elladan considered that, his eyes glancing between the tables, "I think father or Thorin might move first, but the blond will be up and over there before they get the chance.  For all that he was ignoring them, his expression's a good deal darker than either Thorin or father."

Elrohir chuckled at that, "Guess we'll see how it plays out then.  Could be amusing." Even as he spoke Fili rose abruptly, their father moving a second later, and as predicted, much slower.

"Well, I mean," Kili started and stopped as suddenly Fili appeared at his elbow, Thorin and several of the others looking after him.

"Brother," Fili said, voice lower than its usual register.

Arwen turned her attention to Fili, arching an eyebrow. Elrond reached his daughter's side at that moment, "Arwen, your food's getting cold."

"And you really can't have that," Fili agreed, eyeing Elrond and turning his attention to Kili. "Come on," he said, quietly and ignored Kili's glare.

"I can stand here," he protested.

"You could," Fili agreed levelly.

"Father, I was just--" Arwen started to protest.

"I'm sure Aragorn would love to have seen what you were just doing," her father replied evenly, arching his eyebrow sharply.  He might not approve of her choice of boyfriend, whether they were actually dating or not, but it didn't hurt to remind her.

She grimaced and offered Kili an apologetic look before retreating back to the table.  Elrond glanced at Fili, eyes settling on his broken nose briefly again, and murmured, "You might consider reporting that attack.  It may help."

Both brothers startled. "Reporting?" Fili said in some disbelief. "To who?"

"Whoever might listen.  I don't blame you for not trusting Thranduil, but you might consider that some things they have better ability to deal with.  That is all I'm saying," Elrond spoke quietly, offering a sight bow.  "Regardless.  Take care, both of you."

Fili scowled and shook his head. "Good night, professor."

"Good night, Fili," Elrond sighed, following his daughter back to their table.

The brothers looked after him a moment. "That was rude," Kili said and Fili stared at him.

"Yeah, sure it was," Fili said and shook his head again, returning to the table long enough to grab his coat. "I'm heading home."

Balin looked up, "Lad are you--" He broke off, deciding that question was a foolish one.  Bilbo, on his way back to check on the table, paused a few paces away when he saw Fili pulling on his coat.

"Just don't feel good," he said with a shrug. "I'll see you all later, I'm sure."

"We'll see you later, then, laddie," Balin nodded.  Bilbo opened his mouth to ask if it was wise for the other to leave alone, but snapped his mouth shut rather than interfere.

"Yeah," Fili agreed and stomped toward the door, Kili looking between them all before turning and hurrying after his brother.

"We sure we should be letting those two out on their own?" Dwalin asked, looking after them and Thorin gave him a long look.

Bilbo refilled Balin's water glass, "They'll watch out for each other, from what I've seen."

Dwalin gave the waiter a sideways look. "Last time they went out on their own, watching each other's back's, Fili's Durin braid was cut off and his nose broken. Kili even got into his mother's make up to make his bruise look better, instead of having the whole thing light up the side of his face."

"His...?"  Bilbo shook his head, setting aside the question about the braid that jumped to his mind.  "I had noticed that Kili was covering the bruise, but both of them survived that.  I suppose the question of whether someone should go after them is rather academic at this point as they've already left, either way."

Fingering the back of his hair, at the thin braid underneath, Thorin glanced over as Bifur rose, happily plodding for the door, salad already finished. "Just make sure they get in the door in one piece," Thorin said and Bifur nodded, slipping out after the pair. Glancing back at Bilbo, Thorin shrugged.

Bilbo rolled a shoulder in response, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he moved to clear Fili, Kili, and Bifur's places.

w-w-w

Fili made it inside the apartment and though he shut the door he didn't have the heart to try and bolt it against his brother, who had a key even if he had locked it.

"What's got you in such a tiff?" Kili asked, shouldering the door open and Fili glared at him.

"Nothing."

"Yeah, that's really convincing," Kili huffed, dropping his coat in the armchair. "If you say it with  _less_  conviction I might even have to believe you."

Fili's shoulders tensed and he looked over. "Nothing's the matter, Kili."

"Really?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest and eyes narrowed.

"Let it go, brother," Fili shook his head, leaning back against the kitchen counter, a hand rubbing his temple. "It's really nothing."

"Because it looked a lot like jealousy," Kili said and they both stopped, looking at each other from across the room.

"I don't know what you could possibly mean," Fili said after a moment, shifting his shoulders and not quite meeting Kili's eyes.

For another moment they didn't say anything, Kili's jaw dropping slightly, realization and hope making his head spin. "Fili?" he managed after a moment and Fili stared at the wall. "Hey, Fili?"

Taking a breath, Fili finally looked over in time for Kili to suddenly slink into his personal space, and his eyes widened. "What're you--?"

"If it helps, I was jealous of you," Kili murmured.

"That doesn't help," Fili protested. "What is that supposed to help?"

"I thought that you were starting to like Bilbo," Kili said and Fili opened his mouth to protest, to say that if anyone was starting to like Bilbo it was their uncle and then demand to know why that would matter when Kili titled forward, using his extra inch of height to bear down on Fili's mouth.

Breath catching, Fili barely had time to register what was happening before he fisted his hands in Kili's lapels and pushed him back. "What're you doing?"

Kili blinked at him and took a deep breath. "Fili--"

"No," Fili tried, panic in the back of his throat. "Kili, you're my brother and--"

"And I don't care," Kili said with a small frown.

"I care!" Fili said. "You're my brother, we're both men--that's illegal--and you're not even eighteen yet. It's entirely il--"

"You've killed men before," Kili said and Fili's shoulders hunched slightly and his eyes fell to the side.

"Yes," he agreed. "And we do illegal things every night but--"

"Do you want me?" Kili said instead and Fili stopped entirely, freezing a long moment before swallowing convulsively.

"It's not just about want," he said quietly.

"No, it's about love too," Kili agreed. "And I love you entirely."

Fili took another breath, trying not to think about when he started noticing the way his brother was growing up, or when he tried to put an entire floor between them only to have his brother move even closer, or the way Kili's hands had felt on the back of his neck and the feeling of Kili in bed beside him. "We're brothers," Fili said. "Of course I love you."

"But I want you too," Kili said and Fili hadn't tripped him or shoved him away. He had inches on Fili but Fili had more brawn and still won whatever wrestling matches they had. That fact gave him strength to continue. "We've never really been normal," Kili added and Fili took a shuddering breath.

"It's not about being normal, either," Fili said.

"Do you want me?" Kili repeated, tilting forward again. "Were you jealous I was flirting with someone else?"

Taking another breath, Fili let his head fall back, braids shifting off his face. "Every time I try to get away from you, you keep following me."

"I really don't want you to get away," Kili murmured. "Besides, I'd follow you just about anywhere."

"You shouldn't," Fili said, one hand coming up to finally touch Kili's face.

Making a tiny breathy sound, Kili tilted into the touch before nuzzling forward, asking Fili's permission this time before kissing him and Fili twined his hands up in Kili's unbraided hair. Fili pressed into the kiss, opening his mouth and trying not to consider how easily Kili kissed him and who he might have practiced on.

Fili surged away from the counter, turning them until he could press Kili there, hands shifting to Kili's waist and holding him there.

"Brother," Kili whined and Fili stopped, burying his nose in Kili's shoulder.

Fili took another breath, finally meeting Kili's eyes. "I love you," he said faintly and Kili's smile was breathtaking.

"I love and want you," Kili said and nuzzled into Fili's braids. "Brother, if you don't take me, I'm going to take you," he murmured and Fili froze, his brother pressed still against the counter.

"We shouldn't," he murmured a last faint protest and Kili kissed him out of it.

"Please just let me into your bed," Kili groaned and Fili dragged him away from the counter, deciding that worries could wait for the morning. He was far too busy catching Kili’s breathy moans with his mouth to really care about anything else.

w-w-w

Bilbo glanced out of the kitchen, seeing Balin and Dwalin exit the restaurant.  He thought they were the last customers until he stepped out to finish clearing the table and saw Thorin.  Considering retreating again, he drew a deep breath and started across the restaurant, starting to gather dishes onto his tray, "Was everything good tonight?"

"Certainly," Thorin said, still finishing his cup of coffee and watching the other.

"Can I get you more coffee or anything?" he offered a glance to Thorin, the corner of his lips quirking before he pulled his gaze away to make sure he didn't balance anything too precariously.

Thorin paused, considering the bottom of the cup and how much he'd already drunken that night. "If you could," he said instead, watching where Gandalf was lurking by the door to the kitchen, smoking inside his own establishment now most of the other costumers had left.

Bilbo hefted his tray, smiling again, "Of course. I'll be right back." He retreated, slipping quickly past Gandalf and fetching the coffee pot.

Gandalf smirked at Thorin and the other frowned, trying to figure out what pleased him so much. Stepping around Gandalf again, Bilbo glanced at his employer, "You look far too pleased with yourself."  He said nothing further, crossing the dining room to refill Thorin's coffee.

"I can't begin to imagine what you're talking about," Gandalf said after his retreating form.

Pouring Thorin's coffee, Bilbo hesitated, trying to figure out if there was anything further he could do in the dining room as an excuse to stay there.  Or whether staying there was a good option, "It was good to see you this evening."

"Was it?" Thorin rumbled, looking up. "I'm glad."

Retreating was probably a far, far better plan, Bilbo decided.  He set the thought aside and offered Thorin a surprised smile, "You are?"

Thorin blinked and shrugged. "It's better to have someone glad to see you after all than to resent your presence."

The waiter turned his attention back to cleaning the table, "I suppose that's very true.  Nevertheless, it's a pleasure when you all come in."

Thorin gave him a long look. "Now that's not something I hear waiters commonly say about us. You are a bit of an odd one, aren't you?"

Bilbo glanced up, shrugging, "Maybe I am.  I'm not saying it's not tiring to have you all in, but really for the number of guests, you're an easier table to wait on.  I suppose I'm used to larger gatherings."

"Larger gatherings," Thorin repeated in some disbelief. "I do not envy where you come from then, though in all honestly this hardly all of us."

"We take any excuse for a celebration that family or friends offer," Bilbo responded with a smile, tinged with homesickness.  "No, Fili has made it clear that it's not all of you.  And considering there's not been a lady among your group these last two weeks I would rather assume not."

"There's not many ladies among us to begin with," Thorin shrugged. "Dis has little fondness for restaurants and many of the other prefer a quiet night in together while their men are out. It keeps some peace at any rate, among the husbands and wives."

"Dis?" Bilbo hoped his tone sounded more neutral than the question felt.  He wasn't certain what answer he was hoping for as he couldn't recall hearing the name to connect the woman with any of the men.  Some part of him hoped it was Thorin's wife so he could have an argument for himself beyond his father's name.

"My sister," Thorin replied, destroying those hopes before he realized they might have been an issue. "She is Fili and Kili's mother, though her husband died several years ago."

Sighing very softly, Bilbo nodded, "I'm sorry to hear that.  May I ask what happened?"

"It was when the flu came," Thorin said. "On the tail end of the war. Both the boys somehow survived but," he shook his head slightly.

"I'm terribly sorry.  So close on the end of the war too," Bilbo murmured, hating the words.  They felt hollow and pointless and also seemed directed at the wrong person, when his sympathy in this situation lay more with Dis and her sons.

"He never really liked me," Thorin said with a slight frown at the coffee cup. "And we never really agreed. But he was a good father and my sister loved him, so we all mourn him still. Yet time goes on."

"Yes," Bilbo murmured, finally looking at Thorin fully.  "Is there anything else I can get for you before the cooks close up the kitchen entirely?"

"No," Thorin said, finishing the coffee. "I should get back anyway, and make sure that for one night my nephews returned home in one piece."

"You're certain you should be headed home by yourself as well?" Bilbo asked before he thought about it.

Thorin considered him with a slightly arched brow. "I would like to think I can take care of myself. Why, would you offer to walk me home?"

Feeling his cheeks heat at that, Bilbo sought for an answer, "You'd probably be better off on your own than with me, honestly."

"If you would not take offense, I'd be more concerned about walking you home," Thorin said with a small lift of his shoulders.

"I, no.  No offense taken.  I'm sure that's not necessary, though," Bilbo responded quickly.

Thorin inclined his head. "I'm sure we'll both be fine," he said, not quite believing it.

"Certainly," the waiter was quick to agree.  "Take care, sir."

“If you're certain," Thorin said and shook his head at himself.

Blinking at him for a moment, Bilbo rolled his left shoulder in a partial shrug, "I find myself certain of very little of late."

Thorin tilted his head. "Why?"

Bilbo's eyes widened as he searched for an answer that wasn't a directly honest one, "Well, this city puts me rather out of my element.  I'm from a quiet community, we stayed out of the War--mostly.  I suppose, that even after the months here I'm still unsure of my footing."

Nodding, Thorin considered him. "New places and circumstances are always difficult," he agreed. "But you seem to be building something here at least, if your friendships or work are anything to go by."

Bilbo's lips quirked upward slightly at that, "Yes, I am starting to build relationships here.  Which I believe to be a good thing."

"Most people would agree with that," Thorin said with an incline of his head, and while it was said to sound like a joke, it really wasn't.

Laughing softly, Bilbo nodded, "I'm glad to hear that.  I should get these dishes dealt with.  I'll see you around?"

"Yes," Thorin agreed, voice dropping again slightly as he rose. "Have a good night, Bilbo."

The waiter looked briefly flustered at that, but nodded, "And you, Thorin."

Giving him one last smile, Thorin shrugged into his coat and passed through the door. Watching him go for a long moment, Bilbo shook himself out of his reverie and finished clearing the table, retreating to the kitchen.

Gandalf chuckled as he passed by. "So was putting you on the night shifts a good idea then?"

Startling, he glanced up at Gandalf, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Really?" Gandalf's brows rose as he puffed out another smoke ring.

"They're an enjoyable group of customers.  Is there something else you're insinuating?"

"Perhaps not," Gandalf said. "Though I was counting the number of times you flustered compared to the number of times Thorin dropped his voice another register."

Bilbo desperately hoped that his expression remained neutral in response to that comment, "And how many did you come up with?"

Gandalf hummed. "Enough to form a pattern. You know, I'm not sure Thorin's ever lingered before either."

"He hadn't yet finished his coffee," the waiter offered by way of excuse.  Though he wasn't certain how happy he was with a perceivable pattern being developed.

"Yes, of course," Gandalf agreed. "How many cups of coffee was that?"

"Well, I...Nearly two by the time Balin and Dwalin had left, I believe? Three by the time he did."

Gandalf just hummed again, puffing on his pipe before looking over at his waiter. "Make of that what you like then."

Bilbo blinked at him for a long moment, trying to figure out what he wanted to make of it, "There's nothing whatsoever to be made of it."

Gandalf blew out another smoke ring in frustration. "Are they that morally stringent in the Shire then?" he asked. "Because no matter the legality of the issue, I think you might have to be a fool to make nothing of it."

"I," he drew a deep breath.  "I'm a Baggins. We, we don't _do_  things out of the ordinary."

"Such as moving here and befriending such folk," Gandalf said. "Yes, you're completely ordinary. Respectable even."

"I figure I've already used up my Tookish behavior in doing both of those things," Bilbo murmured.

"I'm not quite so sure as you it's a limited phenomenon Gandalf said, shaking his head again. "Good night, Bilbo."

Bilbo grimaced, looking away, "Good night, Gandalf."

w-w-w

Bombur lifted another crate of alcohol from the back of the truck, carrying it into the warehouse.  He looked to Gloin, "How's your Gimli been doing recently?" he asked, accent the same as his brother’s when he spoke, which was not often.

Gloin made a grunted sound. "I have no idea how you deal with twelve children. One seems to be more of a pest than I can deal with. He's decided he likes jazz music and pestering Thranduil's kid enough I'm still getting calls from the teachers."

Laughing, Bombur shook his head, "They all cause their own set of problems, but the trick is to make certain that the eldest ones are willing to keep an eye on the little ones.  So he's been getting in fights with Thranduil's son again then?"

"So far as I can tell," Gloin said with a heavy sigh. "It'd be nice to have someone older to keep him in line, but his role models are Fili and Kili." Before he could move the last box out of the old truck and into the warehouse a shot rang out and he dropped to the ground automatically, breaking the bottles in question by first dropping them and then shoving them on their side.

Bombur swore, reaching into the cab of the truck an yanking out the gun they kept in there, even as he dropped to the ground next to Gloin, "Are you hit?"

"No," he said and paused, looking around where one of his silver clasps lay across the ground, the bullet having hit that in the back of his long hair when he dived down. "Bastards," he muttered, swinging around to brace behind the truck, pulling a revolver out from his jacket and scanning the area.

Readying the gun in his hands, Bombur pressed his back against the wheel well of the truck, the tire hopefully blocking clear shots from that angle, "Did you get a sense of the direction?"  His eyes scanned the street, trying to figure out where the shooter would have been firing from.

"Up and over," Gloin said, pointing before considering the wind in the area and adjusting his angle. "If I had known there was going to be a party, I would have brought a bigger gun."

"Or two," Bombur agreed, shifting around to level the rifle in his hands and take aim.  "And something repeating."

"Aye," Gloin agreed. "Something illegal probably," he said, squinting in the direction he'd pointed and wishing his eye sight was as strong as it used to be as the roof top he suspected the shots came from was fuzzy instead of clear. "Can you see anyone up there?"

Bombur's eyes narrowed as he tried to make out whether there was someone there, "Just over from the right side, there's a glint of something.  Might be nothing, but my guess is its gunmetal."

"Then I suggest we shoot it," Gloin said, judging where he'd described and taking aim in that vicinity. "Why can't shoot outs ever take place in the day when we can still see things?" he complained before firing off the shot and ducking back down as what seemed more like a hail of bullets greeted him. "There's more than one."

"Bastards," Bombur murmured, ducking down and cursing the way the gunshots echoed in the street.  They were thoroughly pinned down and the echoes made it difficult to pinpoint where the shooters were.  "If it was daylight they'd have better aim too," he muttered, taking advantage of a break in the gunfire to shoot at the roof opposite, thinking he might have heard a cry before he had to duck again.

Gloin muttered something into his beard, shaking his head. "How long do you expect us to stay pinned down before we figure out an escape or the cavalry comes?"

"We'll be outta bullets before the cavalry comes," Bombur answered.  "My estimation is that we need to figure out an escape in the next couple minutes or they're going to figure that out too."  He glanced toward the warehouse and judged the distance from where they were crouched, "What're our chances of getting out the back there?"

"There's three exits, one leading into the river," Gloin said and paused. "Unless they've covered the exits back there's our best chance to find a way past them. Figure out who it is later."

"Then we'd better give that a try.  I don't much fancy waiting til we're out of ammunition," Bombur responded, his gaze darting up toward the buildings opposite.

"Cover me and I'll cover you from the door," Gloin agreed, sinking closer to the ground in preparation to bolt.

Bombur nodded, "Alright.  Three, two, one." He lifted himself up enough to fire at the edge of the rooftops, forcing the gunmen to keep their heads down.

Gloin bolted, using his girth to propel him forward though he paused enough to scoop up the clasp from the ground, as his wife would kill him for leaving it on the street. Reaching the door he frowned at the roof, using what was left in his gun to lay down a return fire, hoping Bombur would make it before he ran out and had to reload.

Bombur shoved off of the truck, managing to make it into the building at the same time as Gloin's last bullet was fired.  Drawing deep breaths, he pulled the door closed and looked to Gloin, working to get the rifle reloaded as he did so, "Let's hurry and hope they're not covering those doors yet."

Gloin nodded, moving quickly through the dark warehouse and relying on his sense of direction to get through it. Opening the back door he swore as another hail of bullets hit his feet. "Well, we know it's someone who really wants us gone," he said, slamming the door shut. "Instead of some upstart who took a shot at the first person they saw."

Bombur muttered something under his breath, tugging on one side of his braided beard, "We'll have to try the river."

"Think you can swim that far?" Gloin asked, already turning around. "Our wives are going to kill us by the time we get home."

"We've got to try or they're not going to get the chance," Bombur answered, focusing on where he remembered the river exit being.

Gloin lead the way, pausing in front of the door. "In case there's more," he said. "I'm going to open the door and we need to just break for it."

Bombur drew a steadying breath and nodded, realized Gloin probably couldn't see him with how dark it was and responded, "Alright.  Whenever you're ready."

Gloin took a steadying breath and nodded, shoving the door open and pounding down the small dock where ships often came to pick up or drop off shipments of rum, diving off into the river.

Right on Gloin's heels, Bombur stumbled as a bullet caught him in the side just before he dove in after the other man.

w-w-w

Bifur, generally speaking, liked children, but even more he liked green food, quiet and creating things with his hands. Sometime over the years Ori, who disliked green food and so gave his to Bifur and was quiet, had taken to joining Bifur while the other carved and painted toys in the lobby. Bifur didn't like being alone in his apartment, but more so he disliked being the center of attention, and so spend much of his spare time in the lobby.

He enjoyed it even more when Ori joined him, with whatever project the young art student was working on and they'd create things quietly together.

Except on that night things weren't quite quiet for Bofur had been pacing the building, up and down stairs, through halls and around his own apartment. He tended to get more agitated when Bombur was out on a run. Hand closing around the toy he was in process on, Bofur crossed the space without fully realizing that Ori was there as well.

Bifur looked up, fully understanding why Bofur was pacing and nodded to him, Ori the other side of Bifur and closer to the wall, yarn and hook in his hands as he worked quietly. Gaze darting to Ori, Bofur hesitated before sitting cross legged in front of them both and withdrawing his carving.  Ori was quiet enough that Bofur hoped he'd still manage to calm his nerves around the other.  He set to work on the little block of wood, glancing at the work in Ori's hand.

Bifur glanced between them but after Ori had flashed Bofur a smile on arrival he'd curled a bit closer around the crochet and remained silent. Only able to handle the silence for so long, Bofur finally looked at Ori, "What are you working on there?"

"Oh," he said and paused, holding up the square. "Something for a project."

"Is it supposed to be full of holes?" Bofur tilted his head to one side, considering the item.

"Yes," Ori said, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "It's crochet."

Lips curling into a bit of a grin, Bofur nodded, "And a fine job you're doing of it too."  He hoped, he hadn't really ever seen someone work with crochet before so he couldn't say that with true accuracy.

Ori blinked at him. "Well, it has the proper number of holes at any rate," he said, considering it again. "Hopefully by the end I'll have enough squares of decent shape and size to finish the project."

"What is the project?" Bofur asked, ignoring the carving in his hands for the moment.

"Well, the teacher was trying to teach us to make lace," he said and pulled a face. "But since I failed at that level of detail work the teacher handed me a crochet task instead, and I believe I'm supposed to be making some sort of blanket out of many squares."

“Well, at least it's something practical in the end?"

"That's the hope," Ori agreed. "I'm not saying it's going to happen."

"You'll make it work," Bofur offered with another smile.

"I hope so," Ori said with a smile and the soft sound of Bifur's knife stopped for a moment as he considered the two in front of him before returning to his carving.

Bofur glanced in his cousin's direction, his eyebrows rising in question but he brushed it aside and turned back to Ori, "Do you like your classes and the school then?"

"I like the school," he said slowly. "I like the art. The classes I'm still working on."

"Well if you like those things, the classes should come with time, right?" Bofur offered, his gaze moving to the door and then to a clock nearby.

"Yeah," Ori said, looking at the clock as well and just feeling glad he'd already watched both his brothers go to bed.

Bofur dropped his gaze to the carving in his hand, drawing a deep breath as he set to work on it again, the knife biting deeper than he intended and he grimaced, folding the knife and returning both to his pocket instead.

"Are you alright?" Ori asked quietly, knowing it was a stupid question but wanting to try.

Bofur offered him a half smile, "I'll be fine.  Bombur's just running later than I expected.  I'm sure he'll be through that door any minute now."

"Of course," Ori agreed, having thought the same thing many nights when one of his brothers was running late. Nori got into trouble he couldn't get out of without injury more often than Dori but he still worried about both of them. It was a night that Dori was late when he'd first settled next to Bifur in the lobby.

"They'll both be right as rain," Bofur murmured, still trying to convince himself.  He glanced at Bifur, half hoping for an agreement but not entirely expecting one.

Bifur glanced down at him and handed him the small figurine he'd been working on instead.

Bofur offered a far more fleeting smile at that, accepting the figure and turning it around in his hands, studying the almost macabre intricacies of it while trying to sort the exact form it was supposed to be, "A piece of art is what this is, Cousin."  He startled, nearly dropping the carving when a knock came at the front door.

Ori bounded up, heading for the door only to be jerked back by both Bifur and Bofur before he could go more than a few paces. "What--?"

"What do you think you're doing?"  Bofur asked him, wide eyed.  "You always wait a  _minimum_  of five minutes before even touching that door. Especially this late at night."

Ori started to ask why on earth anyone would do that before snapping his mouth shut and looking down. "Right," he said, eyeing the door with more wariness. "Sorry, of course."

Bofur breathed a soft sigh, letting go of Ori's arm and sitting back, "It's fine, just...be careful with it, alright?"

"I'll careful," Ori tried to assure him as they all stared at the door.

Bofur nodded very slightly, his gaze darting toward the clock again though his attention moved right back to the door.  After the recommended five minutes had passed, he glanced at Bifur, drawing his gun from its holster, "Best we see what that was?"

Bifur nodded, picking up a shovel that had been left next to the door for whatever strange reason and using that to push the door open, looking out.

When no gunfire was forthcoming, Bofur ducked around the shovel quickly, scooping up the scrap of paper that had been left on the stoop and retreated, pulling the door shut as he did so.  His gaze dropped to the note and he paled, hand shaking.

Bifur leaned over his shoulder, tilting his head back at his cousin as Ori watched them. "What is it?"

Bofur opened his mouth to answer, but simply shook his head and held the note out, unable to find words for once in his life.

Taking the note, Ori tilted his head. "It says," he said and paused. "Why would someone send us a note telling us they think our men are dead?" he asked, stomach turning over and Bifur just pointed to the name.

Swallowing, Bofur shook his head, "Because it's Azog."  He hesitated, "We, we should get this to Thorin."

Ori nodded, trying to catch Bofur's eyes even as Thorin thundered down the stairs, Dwalin close behind him. Bofur startled, looking in that direction, "Thorin, there-there was a note left."  He took the scrap from Ori again, holding it out.

Thorin looked over it quickly and shook his head. "We just got a call from Gloin," he said and Ori let out a breath. "He says they're holed up and waiting for us."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Bofur nodded, "They're alright then?"

Thorin paused, looking at Ori. "Please make sure Oin's awake," he said softly and looked back at the cousins. "Bombur got shot in the side, but he's able to walk at the very least."

Bofur looked like he'd been hit in the gut, but he nodded slightly and glanced at Bifur.

"He'll be fine," Thorin said, putting a hand on his shoulder, taking the moment for reassurance before he and Dwalin were out the door.

Ori swallowed convulsively. "I'll go get Oin," he said, abandoning his crochet and clattering up the stairs.

Watching them all leave, Bofur leaned heavily against the wall, running a hand over his face and trying to pull himself together.  Someone was going to have to let his sister-in-law know and he figured it was probably going to be him.

Bifur approached him, leaning against Bofur's shoulder and patting his hat awkwardly before nodding up the stairs with a raised brow. Bofur drew a deep breath and swallowed again, nodding before pushing off the wall and starting for the stairs.

w-w-w

The next morning Fili stepped out into a quiet building and looked around, shoving his braids out of his face and his brother at his shoulder, eyes wide.

"What happened?" Kili murmured and Fili had to be careful not to curve his hand around Kili's waist because the door was open and others could see.

"I don't know," he said, frowning. "But something seems wrong."

Bofur was on his way back to his apartment from where he'd spent the night on the couch in Bombur's apartment, helping his sister-in-law as much as he could with the children that morning, to let her better see to Bombur.  He looked absolutely exhausted, the only sleep he'd gotten had been fitful at best.  Spotting, Fili and Kili he paused, but didn't say anything.

"Are you okay?" Kili asked, eyes widening.

Rubbing his eyes he shook his head, "Better than I could be."  He looked the brothers over, "You haven't heard, have you?"

"Something's happened then?" Fili said, not surprised in the least and Kili's shoulders fell.

"Bombur was shot last night on the run," Bofur replied quietly.  "Azog left a note claiming responsibility."

"Of course Azog would leave a note," Fili sighed. "He always wants the credit for what he did. But they're not dead?" he asked, feeling Kili's hand tighten on the back of his jacket.

"No.  No, they'll both live," the other answered.  "And the shot missed anything vital, thank God."

"But it does mean Azog is on the move," Kili murmured, shaking his head and Fili took a deep breath.

Bofur nodded slightly, "Yet another reason to be on our guard.  If you both don't mind, I'm going to go try and sleep."

"Of course," Kili said and Fili nodded, watching him with a set of his jaw that made Kili look sideways at him. "Brother?"

"Things are getting out of control again," Fili aid and started down the stairs.

"So what are you going to do?" Kili asked, hopping after him.

"Probably something very stupid," Fili shook his head, Kili catching his arm and turning him around halfway down the stairs.

With a frown he considered Fili's face before shaking his head. "No. You know what Thorin would say if you went to the police."

"If I can blame my attack on Azog, it could get the police on that track," Fili pointed out and considered. "I wonder who has that note he left."

"They'd have a hell of a time proving it was from them," Kili pointed out and set his jaw. "If you're going, I'm going with you."

Fili's eyes widened and he packed Kili down the stairs and to the side. "No. Absolutely not."

Opening his mouth to protest, Kili found it covered with Fili's, Fili's hands dropping to his waist and holding him there. Even several days into the week and the weekend spent mostly touching each other behind closed doors, every movement and touch felt entirely new for all they'd been watching each other all their lives.

Fili drew back, leaving Kili breathless and his pupils blown. "You shouldn't go out alone," he protested weakly.

"It's early in the morning yet," Fili said, looking around again quickly to make sure no one had appeared before tucking Kili's hair back. "Go to school and act like it's a normal day. If I'm worried about it, I'll ask Thranduil for a ride home."

Kili huffed, shaking his head. "Uncle would kill you if you did that."

Eyes scanning the lobby again Fili pressed a second quick kiss to his brother's open mouth before stepping back. "I'll see you later," he said and with a whirl of his braids was out the door, Kili still too dazed to glare after him though he huffed out an annoyed breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited September 14, 2017


	5. It Might Just Make You the Better Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited September 21, 2017

Bard ran a hand through his hair, getting up to fetch some coffee before getting back to work.  He stopped before reaching his desk when he saw Fili enter the precinct, an eyebrow rising skeptically. But Fili ignored him, heading unnervingly straight toward Thranduil's desk.

"Hello," Fili said, Thranduil rising from his desk. "I believe you wanted to speak to me?"

"I thought we already had?"  Bard shot Thranduil a confused look.

"About the murder," Fili shook his head. "I thought you were curious about who bashed my head into a wall too," he said, looking at Thranduil, who nodded. "Unless you really are just out to get my people into trouble and don't care when trouble knocks for us."

"I had missed notification of that," Bard admitted.  "Are you here to give a statement about that attack then?"

He hesitated for a moment, tilting back on his heels as if to turn around and just leave before he slowly nodded.

Bard sat down in one of the chairs next to his partner's desk, leaving the one with a clear view and path to the door open, "Can you tell us what happened?"

If possible, Fili looked more annoyed at that consideration, sitting down carefully and shifting his shoulders. Gwaihir, the police commissioner, approached, having already been alerted by a particularly alert officer that a Durin had just walked in through his doors. "What's going on here, Gentlemen?"

Fili tensed ever more at that, considering just turning back for the door but instead only tilting his head back as Thranduil cleared his throat. "He was attacked the other night," he explained. "And has finally come in to make a report, though," he considered Fili who returned his look levelly. "I do wonder what finally prompted you in here."

Gwaihir shook his head, "The motivation isn't the question here, Thranduil. He's here to report it, which is what matters."

Thranduil's lips thinned. "Remind me how long ago it was?" he asked, considering where Fili's nose was still healing.

"Six nights ago," Fili replied, back stiff.

"Can you identify the people who did it?" Gwaihir asked, his tone calm and relatively relaxed.

"I got a clear look at their faces," Fili said. "And while I might not have exact names, I believe there were all members of Azog's gang. I've seen them before." He said the lie easily enough but Thranduil sputtered at the mention of the other gang boss.

Bard made a sound of protest, but Gwaihir held up a hand.  Whether Fili was lying about that or not, they'd take what they could get regarding the gangs in the city, "You're certain?"

"Yes," he said mildly, meeting the Commissioner's eyes.

Rubbing the first finger of his left hand up and down the bridge of his nose, Gwaihir considered that for a long moment.  It was entirely probable that this was a method of using the police in a retaliatory maneuver, but if so he doubted that Thorin himself was aware of it.  It was too damn early to be sorting out the pros and cons of taking one gang's word against the other.  "You say this happened last Tuesday?"

"Yes," he said. "And last night Azog attacked several of the rest of us." That at the very least he could confirm if he could get that note and either Bombur or Gloin willing to talk. He just hoped the double attack would support the case he was trying to build.

"You have evidence that it was him?" Bard sounded skeptical, and earned himself a sharp look from Gwaihir for his trouble.

"He left a note," Fili said with an arched brow. "Would that suffice?"

"That would more than suffice," Gwaihir agreed.  "Do you have the note with you?"

"Not yet," he said and really hoped no one had burned it since he left.

"Do you think you'll be able to obtain it?"

"It shouldn't be too difficult," Fili said. "And I have other witnesses who saw it," he added.

"Excellent," Gwaihir nodded.  "If you can convince any of those attacked last night to speak with us, that will help things along as well.  We'll start looking into this, but we will need cooperation from you and yours as well, if we're to reach the bottom of this."

Shifting, Fili took a deep breath. "You may not get everyone's," he said, a warning. "But I'll see what can be done."

"I'll take what I can get," came the response with a sigh.  "Is there anything else you have?"

"Two attacks with witnesses and a note," Fili said. "What else should I have?"

"It was just curiosity, sir, that's all," Gwaihir assured easily.  "If that's everything, we'll get the initial report processed and being the investigation.  The sooner you can get us the note and at least one witness, the better."

Fili nodded, looking between the three and wanting to bolt from the station as fast as he could. "Is that everything?" he asked instead, hands in his lap.

Gwaihir nodded, motioning to the door, "I do believe so.  Good day."

Standing, Fili kept his motions careful and measured as he looked around again and turned for the door.

w-w-w

Ori hesitated outside of Bofur's door, looking down at the cup in his hands and almost retreating again. His brother, who enjoyed tea the most of anyone in their family, had comforted him as a child with the drink. But he was sure Bofur wouldn't like it and took a step back before deciding it was better to try than retreat and rapped one hand on the door.

There was a long moment of silence on the other side of the door before rustling an a thump, accompanied by a muffled curse drifted through. Bofur appeared shortly thereafter, his head uncovered and all in all looking rather rumpled. He blinked rapidly at Ori in confusion, "What..?"  Shaking his head, he stepped back, holding the door, "Come in?"

He swallowed hard, still on the landing. "I just," he said, holding the cup out. "You seemed like you had a long night and when I got back from classes--"

Bofur offered him a weary smile, reaching out to take the cup, "Thank you.  Do, do you want to come in?"

"Only if you don't mind," Ori said, swallowing again.

"You're always welcome.  If you can pardon the state of the place," he added with a shrug.  He hadn't even made it to his own bed that morning.  Having curled up under a blanket on the couch with the intention of just a couple of minutes of sleep, he'd been startled awake when Ori knocked--the blanket still draped over the sofa.

Ori shuffled in, looking around an offering Bofur a quiet smile. "Did you get any sleep? I didn't mean to wake you, did I?"

Bofur closed the door, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck as he worked to get a couple of the kinks out of it, "Oh, aye, I slept fine once I got back here.  I was meaning to be up a couple hours ago."

"Still," he said, eyeing the blanket. "I'm sorry."

Setting the cup of tea down on the coffee table--which he had tripped over when he got tangled in the blanket--Bofur gathered up the blanket, tossing it in the basket where it lived when he wasn't asleep under it, "Don't be.  I sleep better in shorter spurts," he offered Ori a smile.  "Anything I can get you?"

"No," Ori said, shaking his head. "I just... Dori used to always make me tea and I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Bofur offered him another tired smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "Thank you.  I'm... doing alright."  He picked the tea up again, sipping at it and blinking when he found it more to his taste than he'd expected.

Ori's smile brightened slightly at that look. "If there's anything you need," he offered.

"I'll be sure and let you know."  He paused, looking around the apartment, "How are you doing today?"

Shrugging, Ori followed his gaze and wondered if there was anything he wasn't supposed to be looking at. "Good," he said. "I suppose. I didn't sleep much last night and was fairly useless."

Bofur's eyebrows drew together in confusion, "Useless?  You?"

"I mean," he stammered, trying not to gaze in shock at the other. "In thinking and things. I kept forgetting stuff in class and tripping over my feet so much that Dori threatened to send me back to bed."

"But we all have days like that, don't we?" Bofur asked after a moment. "It's nothing a bit of sleep won't help."

Ori gave him a tired little smile. "Yeah," he agreed. "Just, embarrassing to be in the middle of is all."

"I suppose that's true at that.  Do you think you'll be getting sleep tonight, then?"

"I hope so," Ori said and swallowed, wondering if he'd really succeed at that or not, finding himself staring at the other's rumpled state again and deciding the wall would be a better place to focus.

Bofur's mouth twisted slightly at that and he finished the tea, setting the cup down again and tugging on his left braid--he really should replait them.  He was a fair bit confused by the other, and more than that uncertain what to do with Ori in his space, "Thank you again for the tea, Ori."

"You're welcome," he said, staring at the braid.

Realizing where Ori's attention had moved, Bofur let go of his braid and shifted self-consciously as he realized how little he was actually fit to see anyone with his clothes and hair in the state they were.  It wasn't as though he was much to write home about when he was put together, but it was still better than his current state he was sure.

"Are--" Ori said, throat suddenly dry. "Can I help you with anything? Er. Else?"

"That wasn't the first question you were going to ask," Bofur murmured, but he shook his head.  "I-I'm alright, thank you.  Don't have much that needs help with."  He was still trying to sort out if he wanted Ori to stay or go at the moment, and he was leaning harder on the former rather than the latter.

"Well just," Ori shrugged. "Let me know if there is anything."

"What were you going to ask?"  The question slipped out before he caught it.

"What do you mean?" Ori asked, blinking at him, hands coming up to twist at the bottom of his sweater, one Dori had made for him.

Bofur hesitated, tugging on his braid again without thinking about it, "Before you asked if you could help.  You, you started to ask something else."

"Oh," he said and shuffled his feet. "It was just the same variation. Just, uh, worded differently." And he'd been tempted to ask if the other had needed or wanted help with his braids but didn't dare so much aloud.

"Well, thank you," Bofur said, pulling his hand away when he felt the left braid come loose.  He muttered something under his breath and closed his eyes briefly.  Opening them again, he hesitated for a long moment and considered the presumption the question could be seen as, "Would you be willing to help me with these?" The tips of his fingers brushed the end of his right braid.  The one at the back of his head would likely need redone as well and he was certain they'd end up even worse if he tried them himself at that moment.

"Would--" Ori blinked at him, considering the state of his hair and nodded. "If you wanted."

Bofur hesitated, but nodded, "If you don't mind.  I just don't think I can manage them myself today."

"No, I used to help Dori sometimes when he was tired, and Gimli when we were growing up, but," he paused. "I actually don't really know how you braid your hair."

Bofur offered a faint smile at that, "My family's not much for complexity.  It's just three large braids, one on either side and one in the back."

"Alright," Ori said before sitting on the edge of the couch and considering the blanket again. "Did you sleep out here?"

Nodding, Bofur reached up and carefully undid his remaining two braids, running his fingers through his dark hair before reaching for an actual comb, "I like it out here."

"Why?" Ori asked. "Here, give me the comb."

He handed it over, shrugging slightly as he sat down, pushing the coffee table out of the way, "I don't really know.  I've just always slept better on a couch than in a bed."

Ori pulled a face, working through Bofur's hair. "I've never liked sleeping on couches," he said, having done it for years when he decided he was too old to sleep in the same bed as one or the other of his brothers and before they could afford another one.

Bofur closed his eyes, focusing on the feel of the comb in his thick hair, "I've found that I've slept in worse places. Beds are..." he tried to find some way to communicate what he was thinking, "Too empty?"

"Oh," Ori said, still combing his hair. "That. Okay. I suppose that makes sense."

"Really?  I'm not sure it even made sense to me," Bofur responded with a chuckle.

"Well, I mean," Ori said and thought he should really stop before he opened his mouth again. "I mean, you have Bombur and Bifur and you get along with everyone else, and you have twelve nieces and nephews and you're all but the life of the party if Kili or Fili isn't trying to upstage you, but you've always seemed... lonely."

Bofur turned his head enough to look at the younger man, "Lonely?" he managed a grin that didn't look forced, "With all those people around?"

"Especially then," Ori said, pulling lightly on his hair. "Hold still or I'll mess this up."

Turning his face back to the front, Bofur considered that, "How do you figure?"

"I don't know," he said, starting on the first braid, trying to get it to turn out properly. "Something in your eyes, and the way you're quiet when people aren't watching."

Biting at his cuticle, Bofur paused before speaking again, "Lot of people are quiet. Bifur for one. You for another."

"Well, of course we are," Ori shrugged, chewing the inside of his lip as he concentrated. "But that's different. We're happy like that."

"Not much to do about being lonely though, is there?"

"I suppose not," Ori said, mouth twisting where Bofur couldn't see, finishing the first braid and moving to the second one, smiling as he figured out how to get it to turn upward more effectively.

Bofur reached up to run his fingers gently over the first braid, smiling as he felt along the length, "It's far better than I could have done today. Thank you, Ori."

He hummed in concentration and then blushed slightly when he realized that wasn't polite. "You're welcome."

"How are your brothers?" Bofur asked after a moment.

"Good," Ori said, distracted. "Well, as good as ever. I think Dori wishes no one had ever discovered his tea though."

"Why do you say that?"

"Apparently Kili came to dig into his stash the other day too," Ori said with a grin. "And he's wondering where it all keeps going."

Bofur laughed at that, "Poor Dori. Surely he doesn't mind that much?"

"He's very particular about his tea," Ori said. "I don't think he much likes having to buy more of it."

"Maybe he ought to see about getting some that isn't his favorite that other people can use?"

Ori laughed and leaned back. "Your braids are done. They should hold up for a while. As for my brother, he would be morally offended to offer a guest or anyone else less than the best tea."

Bofur laughed, drawing away enough to turn and look at Ori, "Then he'll have to resign himself to buying more tea, then."  He reached up to trace a hand gently over his braids, blinking in some surprise at the fact that Ori had managed to get them to curl upward at the ends.

Ori rose, giving him another tiny smile. Rising with him, Bofur offered yet another smile, "Thank you again, Ori."

“You're welcome," Ori said, beaming at his handiwork and feeling slightly on more secure footing now that Bofur didn't look quite so rumpled. "I'm glad you're, well, you know, holding in there."

"I'm glad you came to check," he paused, realizing what he'd said and offered a sheepish smile.

Ori blinked and shrugged with another smile. "I hope your brother feels better soon."

"I'm sure he will," Bofur murmured.  "He's got that huge family watching out for his every need."

Ori didn't say that someone should look after Bofur more. "I should," he said and motioned to the door, scooping the tea cup back up.

"I'll, I'll see you later?"  Bofur asked, glancing toward the door.

"I'm around," Ori agreed. "I'll see you later."

"Take care, Ori," Bofur murmured, offering him a smile. Giving him a last fleeting smile, Ori ducked his head down and slipped out of the door, cradling the cup against his chest.

Bofur watched him go before tidying up his apartment a bit and then leaving to go check on Bombur, trying to get what Ori said out of his mind and the way the other's hands felt in his hair.

w-w-w

Bilbo entered the building later that week to study with Fili.  He paused in the entry, finding it more subdued than it had been before.  His gaze darted around as he considered whether he should head up to Fili's apartment or wait there.

Sitting in his usual corner, Bifur considered him as he entered, sliding off his perch to approach. Pausing when he saw the movement, Bilbo turned in that direction, "Bifur?"

Offering the other a smile that looked a little mad around the edges, Bifur held out the carving he'd been working on to Bilbo, dropping it in his hands before retreating.

Bilbo turned the intricate cubic puzzle over in his hands, looking in Bifur's direction, "Thank you."  He turned his attention back to the puzzle, examining the carvings on each side and considering the paint colors used on it.

Nodding at him with another smile Bifur returned to his corner as Kili leaned over the banister outside of Fili's apartment, hair framing his face. "Bilbo!" he called, nearly falling over the railing.

Startling, Bilbo looked up blinking in confusion, "Kili?"

"Good to see you," he called down still. "Are you here to study?"

"I, well, yes I was.  Is Fili in today?"

"Yeah," Kili beamed. "He's just being lazy. Come on up."

Bilbo paused but made his way quickly up the stairs, giving Kili an odd look as he reached the landing, "You seem to be in a good mood today."

He hummed. "That isn't so odd," he said, pushing the door back into the apartment open and calling for his brother's attention. Bilbo stepped in behind Kili, arching an eyebrow but not commenting on the fact that the other had been frankly abrasive the last time he'd been there.

Coming from the bedroom Fili startled before offering Blibo a smile. "For some reason I always expect you to arrive later than you do. Hello."

"Well, I've got work in the evenings or I probably would arrive later," Bilbo answered with a smile.  "Hello.  How are you doing today?"

"Well," he said, brushing several things off the table and Kili took the plates and books out of his hands, fingers brushing for a moment too long before bounding off. "It's been well," Fili tried again.

"Your brother seems in a better mood this week," his classmate offered quietly, grey gaze studying the brothers.

"Does he?" Fili asked, tone mild and something lit behind his eyes. "That's good."

"I would certainly say so," Bilbo agreed, pulling his notebook and textbook out of his bag and carefully placing the puzzle Bifur had given him into it.

Fili's eyes moved there. "Is that from Bifur?" he asked, considering it.

Bilbo hesitated, pulling it back out and nodding, "He gave it to me when I came in today and then retreated."

"That's pretty common," Fili said. "I mean, if he gives something to anyone. I used to have something like that when I was younger too."

"It's quite intricate," Bilbo responded, tracing his fingers over the edges of the cube again.

"His work always has been," Fili laughed. "It's gotten odder lately but it's still gorgeous in ways most things aren't."

"How do you mean 'odder'?" Bilbo asked, tone almost wary.

"Well," Fili paused, riffling through his bag to find his notes from class. "Macabre is probably the best way I could put it."

"Exquisite though," Bilbo said, considering the puzzle for another moment before placing it into his bag.

"Yeah," Fili agreed as Kili leaned his hands against the back of his chair, considering his notes over his shoulder. Bilbo glanced up, arching an eyebrow at Kili, but didn't say anything as he turned to the lectures they were planning to go over.

"Remind me to never take a literature class," Kili said and Fili tilted his head back.

"If you go to college, they're generally required," and when Kili huffed he narrowed his eyes. "You should go to college you know."

"They're really not all that bad," Bilbo offered.  "Mostly it's a matter of learning the right words to use to make it sound like you know what you're talking about.  Lots of 'represents' and 'therefores'."

"And symbols. You know symbols," Fili said and Kili just grunted and rolled his eyes.

Bilbo chuckled, "Not a fan of symbols then?"

"Oh god," Kili drawled. "You wouldn't be either with Balin raising you."

"I suppose I'll thank fate that I wasn't in that case."

Kili laughed, the sound brushing the back of Fili's hair. "Balin is very kind," Fili protested. "Just focused."

"Which can be good," Bilbo offered.  "If occasionally a little stifling?"

Both the brothers grinned at him then, one smile stacked on top of the other. "Something like that," Fili said and his shoulders tensed as Kili leaned down to not quite kiss his hair before moving back.

Bilbo's eyebrows rose very slightly at that motion, but he turned his attention to the notes without comment, starting to talk about the symbols that Professor Elrond had been trying to get  them to pull out of the latest text. After a bit of time spent studying, BIlbo finally looked up again, considering Fili for a long moment, "Do they have some significance?  Your braids I mean."

Fili blinked rapidly at him and Kili possibly dropped something from where he was trying to cook in the kitchen. "What?" Fili asked, startled by the question.

Bilbo winced at that, "Beg pardon.  I've just been curious.  You all wear them--or nearly--and I was just wondering as to the significance."

Fili's hand strayed to pull on the left braid behind his ear and he almost winced at the nervous habit. "They mean different things," he said finally. "Some are just decoration and every family has their own twists and customs. But they mean things like lineage, life events, things like that."

Considering that for a long moment, Bilbo nodded, "I think I understand. Each has a different meaning then?"

"Most of them," Fili said and abandoning the pot Kili came to lean against the wall leading to the kitchenette. Hesitating, Fili looked back at Kili before returning his gaze to Bilbo. "Why? Were you simply curious?"

Blinking at them for a moment, his eyebrows drawing together briefly in confusion, Bilbo answered, "Well, yes.  I've seen rather a lot of things since coming to the city, but the braids are unique even here and I'm somewhat curious by nature. And before you say anything about the fact that curiosity is not a wise thing to have around here, I'm aware of that."

Fili laughed softly. "It's part of who we are," he said. "But it's still personal."

Bilbo inclined his head slightly at that, offering a bit of a smile, "Thank you for explaining."

"Even Kili wears some, though you wouldn't know it," Fili grinned and his brother scowled at him.

Blinking at that, Bilbo's eyebrows rose slightly at that, "I. Oh. Interesting."

Fili considered and nodded, glancing back at Kili as something smoked behind him. "Whatever you put on the stove you should probably check it." Kili turned, swearing words that Fili wished he didn't know before he reached the stove.

"At least there isn't a braid for when you lose your virginity," Kili muttered at the stove and Fili choked on air, shuffling his notes with more focus than usual. Biblo felt his face heat at that comment, but he glanced at Fili and then turned his attention to his notes.

After nearly another hour of studying, Biblo glanced at the clock and shut his notebook, "I should probably be on my way."

Kili glanced up from where he'd been steadily munching through dinner and offered Bilbo a broad smile and a wave as Fili nodded.

"Alright," he said. "I'll see you in class then."

Bilbo offered them both a smile, "See you later."  He slid his textbook and notebook into his bag and rose, picking up the bag and heading for the door.  "Take care, both of you."

Once the door was shut behind him, Fili's head whipped toward his brother, braids flying around his face. "Did you have to say that?" he asked and Kili shrugged, corner of his mouth twisted up.

"There may have been a lack of mouth to brain connections," he said and Fili sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before rising and running his fingers through his brother's hair. Letting out a breath, Kili leaned against him, tilting his chin back slightly.

"There's braids for marriage," Fili said quietly. "But in a traditional society that's probably--there probably wasn't need for braids when you lose your virginity if there's ones for marriage."

"And it's not like we could have worn them anyway," Kili said after a moment and Fili leaned down to kiss his forehead.

"No," he agreed. "We couldn't have. Now, did you happen to make enough food for me too?"

Grinning, Kili nodded and sprang up, dishing up enough food for Fili and kissing him before handing him the plate. They weren't seen the rest of the evening.

w-w-w

The next day at school, Arwen entered the cafeteria and spotted Kili. Ignoring Legolas' protests, she wove her way across the room until she reached Kili's side, "Hey, Kili."

"Hey," Kili said, glancing up from where his arms were sprawled out in front of him at the table, Gimli sitting beside him.

“Do you mind if we join you?" she asked. Legolas yelped, rattling something off quickly in their language which earned him a sharp elbow to the side.

Kili looked between them and gave the pair a lazy smile. "Of course not."

Gimli started sputtering at that, which convinced Legolas to slide gracefully into the seat across from him, Arwen sitting down across from Kili.  The girl tucked her dark hair behind her ear, "So how have you been?"

"Well," he said, with the same lazy smile and tilted his head at her. "You?"

"I've been good. It was nice to see you last Friday night."

"It was," Kili agreed idly. He felt a bit like a bastard for thinking more than seeing her, it had been a wonderful night and her appearance had certainly helped that along.

She paused and considered his tone, "I hope my father didn't offend you or your brother too much with what he said?"

"It's pretty hard for him to offend us," Kili said. "Sides, Fili's in his class now."

"Well, that's a relief at least," Arwen offered with a smile.

Legolas glanced between them, trying to figure out if he should point out to his cousin how little Kili seemed inclined to reciprocate any flirtations she was even half-way offering.

"Hope Fili didn't say anything insulting either," Kili managed, hoping he sounded at least a little sincere considering how much he didn't actually care. 

Arwen shook her head, "Not that I heard, nor that Father mentioned."

Gimli frowned very slightly at that, looking at Kili for a long moment and trying to determine if he was ignoring any undercurrents that were at the very least fading or if he was unaware of them.

Feeling blissfully unaware, Kili grinned. "Good," he said, propping his cheek up with one hand.

Arwen laced her fingers together, resting her chin on the back of them, "How are classes today?"

"Classes are classes," Kili said, arching a brow. "Which means pretty pointless. Yours?"

"English is boring me out of my skull, but I'm enjoying my civics class."

Legolas rolled his eyes at his cousin slightly before turning his attention to Gimli, "And where do you fall on that spectrum?  Enjoying or finding education pointless?”

Gimli fixed the blond with a long stare, "Not really after an answer are you?"

Kili glanced over at his cousin, remembering Gloin muttering something dark into his beard about getting called by the teachers and actually wanted to laugh. "Ori would remind you to be nice," he said, jostling Gimli's shoulder with his.

Gimli scowled at that, "Ori's not here and that _was_ nice."

"If that's nice, I'd hate to see you rude," Legolas responded, arching an eyebrow and shifting slightly as Arwen kicked him under the table.

"Legolas, behave," she murmured.

"I can tell you that wasn't nice," Kili replied, arching a brow and swinging his leg under the table. "Alright, so he's not here, but he's the only standard I have. Imagine his hurt little face behind those knitted mittens."

"That's not fair," Gimli growled.

Legolas smirked, "Well, that wouldn't do at all."

"Do you have something to say, son of Thranduil?"  Gimli asked, turning his attention back to Legolas.

 

Arwen grit her teeth, "Legolas?  Shut up."

"It's really tragic to disappoint Ori though," Kili said, mildly, trying to head off the fight. "I mean, I can disappoint my uncle and feel better about the whole thing than disappointing him makes me feel."

"I can just imagine," Legolas responded dryly. Muttering something under his breath, Gimli offered Legolas a scowl.  The blond returned the look with an easy smile, "Careful or your face'll stick like that."

Kili tilted his head, considering Gimli. "It's not a bad expression to be stuck in," he said and looked Legolas over. "Even like that he looks a sight better than however you got your face stuck."

Legolas gaped at him, his temper rising and he ignored Arwen's rapid murmur of to calm down, "Oh yes, because the start of a full beard is so very attractive."

"Better than looking like a milksop barely old enough to be let away from his mother's apron strings," Gimli responded through clenched teeth.

"Was that my beard or his?" Kili asked, pointing between himself and Gimli, as despite the fact the red head was several years younger than him, he already had more of a beard than the scuffle Kili was trying to coax into anything.

"His," Legolas responded, sharply, barely sparing Kili a glance, his entire body tense at the mention of a mother in any capacity.

"I'd say this is a fair sight better than a start," Gimli's eyes narrowed at the teen across from him.

"Might even be long enough for those clips and braids you all wear," Legolas sneered.  "Easier to tell the bootlegger's son then."

Arwen's eyes widened and she looked ready to strangle her cousin, "Legolas, leave off!"

"Better my father's son than yours," Gimli answered before Legolas could respond to her.

Legolas' expression was cold, his tone just as icy, "And how's that?"

"My father knows how to do his job. Yours just seems to point the blame where it takes his fancy."

"You bastard," the blond didn't think, vaulting the table the same instant Gimli rose, colliding with him and knocking the shorter teen to the floor.

Kili watched them clatter past him with wide eyes, unsure whether to dart away from the impending violence or join in.

Arwen was on her feet and circling the table, but hesitated when she processed exactly how much use she would be in yanking either of them out of the tangle they were in. 

Gimli used his smaller, stockier frame to his advantage and though Legolas managed to catch him a sold blow to the cheek he managed to use his greater heft to roll them both over.  Trading blow for blow, the two fought, neither willing to give enough ground to actually get up from where they'd fallen.

Suddenly Gimli was being hauled up from the back, still struggling but the teen pulling him up was not only taller but stockier and used to breaking up this particular form of fight. "Both of you," he said, Kili leaning his elbows back on the table now and just watching. "Stop it."

Gimli slammed his elbow back, hard at that, "Get off, Aragorn!"

Legolas picked himself up from the ground, running a finger under his nose to confirm that it was in fact bleeding.  He took a good deal of pleasure in seeing what looked like the start of a black eye on Gimli though, "Mind your own business, Aragorn, we were doing just fine."

"It looks fine," Aragorn said, arching a brow and Kili glanced between Arwen and the newcomer before rubbing a hand over his own stubble again, suddenly feeling self conscious of it.

"Your father's going to have your hide," Arwen said, addressing her cousin, but noticing Gimli shift at that as well.

"Not to mention what the school officials are likely to do if you keep it up," Aragorn pointed out, hesitating before he released Gimili's shirt.

Gimli straightened his shirt and stepped out of reach, "What of it?"

Legolas looked more subdued at that, running the hand that wasn't pressed under his nose through his hair, trying to smoothed down the long blond strands, "Valid points.  Doesn't change what he said."

"You rise to the bait to easily," Arwen chastised.

"We can't all be indifferent to insults, cousin," Legolas replied testily.

"That was insulting?" Kili asked, brow quirking up and Aragorn turned a dark look on him. "I mean, it could have been worse," Kili shrugged.

Legolas' hands clenched, but he grit his teeth and kept his mouth shut, Arwen speaking instead, "They were both out of line in what they said. He was defending his father, though he could have done so more reasonably," she offered her cousin a sharp look which he shrugged off.

"Fathers, huh?" Aragorn said after a moment, his face closing off before he shook his head. "No, you both need to learn better control."

"Control?"  Gimli stared at him, "He's the one who attacked first."

"This time," Legolas snapped in response.

" _Both_ of you," Aragorn repeated. "Verbal as well as physical." He glanced over at where Kili was still grinning. "Are you enjoying yourself then?"

"This is better than reading a book," Kili grinned back at him. "As entertaining as family gatherings."

"They're going to get themselves expelled at this rate," Arwen muttered, crossing her arms.

"Which, no one should want," Aragorn said and paused, looking at Kili as if to confirm that.

Legolas grimaced, "It's not like I'm the one who chose to sit at this table anyhow."

"You could have walked away," Kili pointed out, raising a hand and grinning.

"And leave Arwen to her own devices?  I didn't think that wise," Legolas answered, evenly.

"Yes, because I am incapable of taking care of myself," his cousin muttered.

Aragorn looked between the two and bit the inside of his cheek, well aware of what at the very least Arwen's father thought of him but then he stopped, looking over at Kili again and then Arwen. "And," he started and realized his question was going to make him sound jealous and petty.

Legolas' lips curled and he couldn't help but offer a jab, his own pride bruised and his nerves still on edge, "Well you weren't here for lunch. Where else was she to sit?"

Arwen frowned, "Standing right here, stop talking about me like I'm not here."

“I wasn't," Aragorn said quietly before shaking his head again.

Arwen looked at him, finally relaxing her shoulders and uncrossing her arms, "I, I know that. I was mostly talking to Legolas."

Aragorn offered a hesitant smile and more and more Kili got the feeling he'd been played the other night. Which would normally have bothered him except he was still practically glowing every time he thought about Fili alone in his apartment.

Gimli sidled around Aragorn and Arwen to end up next to Kili again, glancing at his cousin but not saying anything, feeling Legolas tracking his movement.  Arwen stepped closer to Aragorn, "What are you doing after classes?"

"Working, at first," he said. "But later there's nothing."

"Father's got meetings until five or six," she offered.

Aragorn offered her a tiny smile and Kili looked over at Gimli. "Are you going to need any emergency aid before we need home?" he asked.

"It's just a couple of bruises," Gimli answered.  "Nothing too bad. Not a lot of them, either," his eyes darted to Legolas who already had a bruise darkening one cheekbone.  The blond grimaced at him, but circled the table without a word, picking up his bookbag in preparation to leave for class early.

Kili elbowed Gimli, disliking what the sight of blond hair out of the corner of his eye made him think. "You could try apologizing," he said under his breath.

"For what?" Gimli muttered in reply, "You heard what he said, and he hit me first."

"Well, yeah," Kili agreed. "But you made his nose bleed," he pointed out, even though he'd been goading the other originally he remembered the sight of Fili's broken nose and shook his head slightly.

Gimli stared at him for a long moment before huffing and turning to Legolas.  The blond arched a sharp eyebrow, "What?"

"Wanted to apologize, is all," Gimli responded, his tone not quite surly but close.

"Apologize?"  Legolas seemed to be trying to get his mind around that fact, "Apology accepted.  And," he drew a deep breath, "One offered in return. I acted rashly and I'm sorry."

Gimli's eyebrows rose and then he frowned suspiciously, but nodded and echoed the other, "Apology accepted."

Kili almost clapped but decided not to ruin the moment and Aragorn turned to give him a raised brow. Arwen blinked in surprise, and opened her mouth to say something.  She decided better of it and closed her mouth again, watching as her cousin shouldered his bag and left swiftly.

"And now neither of you say anything to ruin it." Kili leaned further back on his elbows, crossing his legs and looking around the lunchroom before back to Gimli. "Was that so hard?"

"Yes," his cousin answered bluntly.

"Good," Kili said, smiling easily over at him.

Gimli muttered something, but picked up his own bookbag, "I'm headed to class."

"See you at home," Kili said, not bothering to move yet. Gimli nodded, glanced at Aragorn and Arwen and left.

w-w-w

Gloin was downstairs, discussing business with Bombur who'd decided he needed to get out of his apartment when Gimli and Kili walked in the door. Taking one look at his son's face, his scowled, crossing his arms over his impressive chest. "What did you do?" he said, voice hitching higher at the end and Kili slipped quickly to the side and out of the firing line.

Gimli glanced at his father and stopped where he was, seriously weighing the pros and cons of backing out the door and trying to come in again later, "Stopped before you got a call from the school?" he offered.

"Aye, that's a nice change," Gloin said, eyes narrowing and Ori paused where he was at the top of the stairs, crochet under one arm and a cup of tea in his other hand for Bombur and almost retreated as well. But he hurried down the stairs, passing Kili's quick ascent and settled next to Bombur.

"It's not bad, and I didn't start it," Gimli spoke defensively, his gaze darting toward the stairs where Bofur was now also hesitating at the top and weighing the pros and cons of coming down into what was looking to be a possible family row.

Gloin ignored whoever else was watching, Ori pulling his crochet out and trying to focus on that. "So you didn't start it. Did you at least finish it?"

"Aragorn stepped in," his son admitted.

"So not only do you get into fights but some--someone else stops them for you!" Gloin threw up his hands. "I can't decide which is worse."

Gimli clenched his jaw, well aware of just how many people were within sight much less able to hear this. Bombur spoke quietly, just barely audible, from where he was seated, "Gloin, maybe it would be better to do this in privacy?"

Gimli's eyes narrowed at the interference, but he wasn't going to protest it if it got him out of a lecture in the foyer, "I was a little busy trying not to get _two_ black eyes to stop it."

Gloin opened and closed his mouth in annoyance. "Why do you keep fighting him anyway?" he demanded. "Don't you think his father brings enough trouble on us?"

"I already said he started it," Gimli muttered, surly. "He insults us. All the time. I just get fed up with it."

"Do you really think we'll pass without insult?" Gloin asked, spreading one arm out. "Do you know how often we shall be insulted and fed mud and all those things and you think it's alright to lose your head over it?"

"I didn't start the fight!"  His son repeated, holding on to what little defense he had this time.  "Am I supposed to just let him attack without a response?"

"But you've started other fights with him!" Gloin said. "Other cases. The hell is it about this boy?"

Gimli tried to find an answer to that, "It's not right that we have to take persecution from his father and then from him too."

 "Racism runs in families," Gloin said, carefully not thinking about Thorin's fury at Thranduil. "Ye can't let it get to you."

"So I'm supposed to just stand there and take it?"

"It might just make you the better man!" Gloin yelled.

Gimli stilled at that, jaw tensing, "Because that's something I'm so good at."

"Work on it," Gloin snapped.

"I will," his son grit out.  "Now can I go or is there more you want to say in front of everyone?"

"I'm surprised you're still here," Gloin ground out, actually having been expecting his son to stomp off the stairs long since.

Gimli stared at his father, the thought of backing down from the reprimand even in front of other people never having crossed his mind--it would have felt too much like a retreat. He shook his head and finally headed for the stairs, Bofur stepping to one side from where he'd finally started down them. Gloin muttered into his beard and followed his son, Ori huddled in the corner working through his crochet and Kili having long since disappeared into his brother's apartment.

Bombur watched them go, shaking his head, before turning his attention to Ori, "How is your project coming?"

"The holes are mostly the same size now," he said. "How are you feeling?"

"Better. Stronger every day," Bombur replied. "If I keep taking it easy I should be as good as ever in short order."

"Taking it easy isn't something all that hard for you, brother," Bofur offered with an easy grin as he approached.  His gaze moved to Ori and his grin softened very slightly at the corners, "Hello, Ori."

Ori blinked up at him and then down again. "So long as you have a chance to take it easy," he said and added, more quietly. "Hello."

Bombur glanced between the two of them, his eyebrows twitching together briefly as though he was trying to make out a puzzle.  Bofur caught the look and offered him a wide-eyed one in response, "Been eating enough, brother?"

That earned a chuckle from Bombur, "My wife would hardly let me do otherwise."

The corner of Ori's mouth twitched up, hands working. "And your children?" he asked. "How've they been holding up?"

"The littlest ones are happy to have me home all the time, though the older ones have been hovering and worrying," Bombur shook his head fondly. "They're feeling better about things now that I can come downstairs, but it's been taking a toll on them.  On my lovely bride too."

“It's nice to have people worry about you," Ori said with a small smile, still looking at the yarn in his hands.

Bombur offered a faint smile and a nod at that, "It can be. I just wish they didn't have to."

Bofur pulled out his carving, sitting cross-legged by his brother's legs, "You gave us a scare, we're allowed to worry."

"So don't get shot again and you won't have people worrying," Ori said.

"I shall try my very best," Bombur assured them.

Bofur whacked his brother's shin lightly, "Try a little harder than that, yeah?"

Tugging on one of Bofur's braids lightly, his brother chuckled, "Alright, I'llt ry a little harder than that."

Ori had lifted his head to watch the interaction and found himself considering Bofur's braid as it was tugged, eyes dropping back down instantly and slipping a stitch. He frowned at his work before carefully undoing his mistake.

Bofur glanced at Ori, offering him a bit of a smile, "Your crochet seems to be coming along?"

He blinked over at the other and looked down at the mess he had just made. "It has been," he agreed in past tense, scowling.

"You'll get it fixed, I bet," Bofur encouraged, dropping his gaze to the carving in his hands.

"Yes," Ori agreed, eyes drifting back to Bofur's braids and he scowled at his crochet again, trying to focus his attention there.

"Did you re-do your braids again, brother?" Bombur asked after a moment.

Bofur startled, tipping his head back to look up at his brother his tone a shade more wary than usual, "I do with frequency.  Why do you ask?"

"Because your left braid was straighter earlier this week," Bombur answered with a shrug.

Bofur's knife just about sliced the delicate paw off the cat he was carving, at the thought of when his brother was talking about and the feel of Ori's hands in his hair, "It had been a long night."

Ori skipped another stitch and carefully set the hook down, wondering if it would be worth it to unravel the mess he'd just made or push on despite that. "Are you enjoying your tea?" he asked Bombur carefully and realized that was an even stupider thing to say.

Bofur glanced at him again at that question and dropped his attention back to the carving, trying to smooth out the damage he'd done. Bombur looked between the two of them, his eyebrows rising at the number of glances, and the messes they were both gradually making of their crafts, "Yes, it's good, thank you Ori."

"Good," Ori said, unraveling the square he'd been working on as a lost cause.

Bofur's gaze darted in that direction again, focusing on where Ori was dismantling the crochet square, "Was it as bad as all that?"

"What?" he asked, mind full of braiding Bofur's hair and for a second unsure what Bofur was referring to until he remembered the yarn in his hand. "Oh. Yes," he declared. "Yes it was."

Bombur looked between the two of them, shaking his head very slightly, "Sometimes it's just best to start at the beginning again, hm?"

Ori's brows twitched together as he looked up at Bombur. "Is it?"

Bombur shrugged a shoulder, "I would say so."

"You sound like you're fishing for something, brother," Bofur remarked, careful to keep his head down.

"I have twelve children, I have a tendency to sound like that."

"What would you be fishing for?" Ori asked and then realized that was a very stupid question.

"See, that's the thing about fishing," Bombur answered, "You don't always know until you find it."

"Oh," Ori said, eyebrows twitching together as he came to the end of the square and started it again. "So you are fishing then?"

"Should I be?" Bombur replied.

"No," Ori said quickly and slipped another stitch, staring at it in horror before sighing.

Bombur didn't look like he entirely believed that, but he nodded very slightly, "Then I suppose I'm not."

"Good," Ori mumbled into his knitting.

Bofur tapped a hand lightly against Bombur's shin when his brother's eyebrows rose again, "There's no reason for you to be fishing."

"I already said I wasn't."

"Not technically," Bofur shook his head, but decided it was safer not to say anything else.

Ori took another breath and peered over at where Bofur was working. "It's a very nice carving," he said.

Bofur's hands stilled before he accidentally cut himself and he offered Ori a smile, "Thank you.  It's nowhere near finished."

"It's still rather lovely," Ori said and focused back on his own work, actually hoping no one else would say anything. He could have cried when Bombur didn't say anything, except he didn't think that would be the end of it. So he focused on his knitting studiously instead. 


	6. Am I Keeping Up so Far?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That awkward moment when you're talking about a story with your co-author and you realize that being a writer makes you sound like a serial killer.

Fili tried not to glare at his uncle beside him. "I can go shopping by myself," he insisted. "It's not difficult. Find the supplies I need and the new knives mother wanted and leave."

Arching a brow, Thorin looked over at him from where he was considering heavy coats as winter was coming on and his last heavy coat had been wrecked last season after getting too many holes and blood on it. "Nothing is simple with you, nephew," he murmured before shaking his head at the display and following Fili as he headed to the kitchen section of the department store to find his mother knives and himself new dishes as Kili was even less likely to move out of his apartment anymore.

Bilbo was trying his best to extract himself from a conversation with an extremely helpful sales associate in the kitchen department.  He'd come in to see if he could find a kettle to replace the one he had forgotten about and accidentally burned the bottom out of a couple of nights prior.  He glanced up as he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, breathing a sigh of relief as he was able to excuse himself from the associate and cross to meet Thorin and Fili, "Good afternoon, gentlemen."

"Good afternoon," Fili said as Thorin looked surprised to see the other there.

"What brings you out today?" Bilbo asked, glancing toward where most of the people on the sales floor were giving them a decent amount of space.

"I was looking for something," Fili said, glancing at his uncle who'd nodded finally at Bilbo. "And someone didn't want to let me out of the house alone."

Bilbo offered Thorin a faint smile at that before returning his attention to Fili, "Well, you keep getting yourself injured."

Fili gave him a dark look before shaking his head and stalking toward the plates, Thorin glancing at Bilbo. "And what brings you here?"

Watching Fili go, Bilbo shook his head and turned back to Thorin, "Hm?  Oh, I burned the bottom out of my kettle the other night and I really do rather need a new one."

"A tea drinker then?" Thorin asked, trailing after his nephew who was muttering something under his breath as he considered plates and bowls and was pleased with none of them.

"I find it works better for my concentration than coffee does," Bilbo responded, keeping pace with Thorin.

Thorin nodded. "I suppose that's understandable. Dori swears by tea and not coffee but tea has always felt..." he paused, reconsidering the word weak. "Too dainty," he said instead.

Bilbo laughed at that, "I suppose it could seem that way.  I've always been told I overbrew mine--if it can't stain a wall it's not steeped long enough.  Most don't make it that strong."

"You can stain walls with tea?" Thorin asked, actually sounding surprised. "I never noticed that before," he said, watching Fili tut over plates with more vigor than he'd ever even see Dis manage and didn't think about the number of times people had thrown cups full of some liquid or another at his head.

"If it's a black tea and has been steeping for more than six minutes in water that most would think burns the tea leaves," Bilbo assured.  "That will stain just about anything."

 "Really?" Thorin asked, arching a brow. "So, how many things have you spilled your tea on then?"

"The paper I was writing, the table I was writing on, the carpet beneath the table--though that stain was less noticeable due to the ink stain nearby, oh, and the sleeve of the shirt I was wearing that night."  He offered a sheepish smile, "The tea wasn't enough to keep me awake and I knocked it over when I fell asleep."

Thorin laughed, the sound low in his chest. "And did you turn the paper in tea stained?"

Bilbo paused for a moment before he shook his head, careful of his response after that laugh.  It wouldn't do to be visibly flustered, "No, I re-wrote it on a clean sheet of paper when I woke up.  I hadn't quite finished it, so I figured I might as well transfer it and finish it there."

Chuckling still, he shook his head and glanced at Fili. "Fili," he said. "They're just plates."

"Which means I have to look at them every day," he protested.

"And plain ones won't do?" Bilbo asked, brief confusion drawing his brows together.

"They'd do," Fili said, rocking back on one hell. "But they're so boring."

"You could use more boring," Thorin said under his breath and Fili glanced over at him before turning to move onto the gift for Dis he was looking for.

Bilbo hesitated, moving to catch up with Fili but getting distracted as they passed the kettles on the way to the knives.  "Oh, I need to get one of those."

"A kettle?" Fili asked, having been focused on the plates earlier. "Need your tea then?"

"I burned the bottom out of mine this week.  And yes, I've got papers in my other classes and I need the tea desperately," Bilbo responded.

"You poor thing," Fili laughed slightly, shaking his head so his braids swung as Thorin continued moving toward the knives.

Bilbo's lips curled upward into a smile, "It's part of my method.  Brewing a pot of tea gives me a break and a procrastination method all at once."  His grey eyes followed Thorin, though, rather than focus on the kettles for a brief moment.

Fili snapped a finger under Bilbo's nose. "Hey," he said. "Don't you want a kettle?"

Startling slightly at that, the smaller man blinked rapidly before turning to consider the selection of kettles, "Of course. That is what I came for after all."

Fili glanced at his uncle's broad back and back to Bilbo. "So, how attractive do you find my uncle anyway?" he asked under his breath as he leaned toward the kettles, pitching his voice so no one else would hear them.

Bilbo froze for the briefest of moments at that, his hand hovering over one of the kettles.  He picked it up, considering it rather than look at Fili, "I've no idea what you're talking about."

"Of course not," Fili said, eyes moving over without turning his head.

"What makes you ask?" Bilbo murmured, setting the kettle down and picking up another.

"Curiosity," Fili said. "About you, for his sake."

"This is a highly irregular conversation," he picked up a third kettle, though he already knew he was going to end up purchasing the first one.

"Yeah, I have a lot of those," Fili shrugged, blinking at the kettle he was holding. "Okay, not that one. Just promise me you won't buy that one. Go with the first."

Forcing a quiet laugh, Bilbo set the kettle down, picking up the first one again, "Do you honestly want an answer to that question?"

"Well, yeah," Fili said, tilting his head down.

"I find him very attractive," Bilbo replied in an undertone, still focused on the kettle.  "He confuses me though, throws me off-kilter and I'm not sure I much like it."

Fili considered, thinking of how often Kili threw him off kilter mentally and physically and shrugged. "Alright. What's confusing? You have trained Thorin translator here."

"It's not so much anything that he does or says.  It feeds into that bit about him throwing me off-kilter.  Though Gandalf mentioned that he never lingers, and he did last week."

Fili blinked, having not known much of what anyone else was doing that night and he had to fight off a blush. "Did he?" he asked neutrally instead and tried not to think about what he was up to in a public store.

Bilbo nodded, "Though he hadn't finished his second cup of coffee at that point either.  He left a good deal later than anyone else."

For a moment, Fili didn't say anything, just staring at him. "He was out alone?" he asked finally, carefully and tried not to stomp over and kick his uncle.

Closing his eyes, Bilbo realized how much he really needed to not speak any more, "He left before any of the employees did, so yes?"

"Bastard," Fili said under his breath and shook his head. "Okay, well, beside that, it certainly implies... something. He smiles more too, when you're around. It's sorta pathetic to watch, now that I think about it..." Though, he admitted to himself, he certainly wasn't one to talk.

Bilbo offered him a sharp look at that, "Pathetic?"

"Well," Fili shrugged. "Sorta. Him as much as you but you're both doing the stare thing."

Pursing his lips, Bilbo looked at Fili finally, "Well, it just...it isn't something one does."

Having looked over at him, Fili froze for a long moment as the words left Bilbo’s mouth. "No, of course not," he said finally, voice level.

Bilbo's eyebrows drew together at the shift, and he considered Fili for a long moment, "What does it matter, regardless?"

"Perhaps nothing," Fili said, and forced a laugh before picking the kettle up and pressing it to Bilbo's chest. "Just get this one would you?"

"I was planning on it," Bilbo responded with a faint smile.

"Good," Fili said, trying to see where his uncle had moved over and froze again, every muscle looking as he saw the man approaching from another section of the store, two discreet thugs following him.

Bilbo frowned very slightly as he caught sight of the other man, "Who...?"

"Imagine seeing you here, my dear Thorin," a smooth voice spoke from behind Thorin.  The man, dressed in a dark smoke gray suit with a brilliant red and gold tie and matching pocket kerchief smiled thinly.  His green eyes bright and attentive and his strawberry-blond hair slicked back to lie perfectly against his skull.

Thorin seriously considered the knives in front of him before turning, unarmed, to face Smaug. "Hello," he said, hoping his tone was mild enough.

Smaug's gaze swept over the other man, sizing him up quickly, "Hello?  Is that all you have to say to me?  We haven't seen one another in ages and all you say is 'hello'?"

"It seemed far more polite," Thorin said, inclining his head even as he made sure to keep the men with Smaug in his sight as much as possible. "Than what I would rather say."

"Oh come now, Thorin, if we can't be frank with one another then how are we ever to talk?"  He allowed his eyes to wander, keeping Thorin in his periphery as he glanced over the knives and then at the other people in the near vicinity.  One eyebrow arched at the sight of Thorin's nephew and a man he didn't recognize.

Thorin made a motion behind him, hoping Fili would see it and stay away instead of coming over. "You look well," he remarked, scowling at the immaculate suit and well aware of the faded color of his own, scuffed at the collar and mended several times. "I assume you're most proud of yourself for that stunt with getting the police on our tail?"

"And which stunt was that?" Smaug's smile turned almost predatory as he looked back to Thorin.

"Killing families was always more your style," Thorin returned, brows heavy as he met the other's eyes.

"Oh, that, of course.  Nasty business that.  I wouldn't have had to involve you but that little kingdom of yours just won't roll over and learn when it's dead, yet," the slender man nearly purred.  "I thought I'd help you all along."

"How kind," Thorin replied, leaning back slightly on his heels and nearly sputtering out a string of curses when Fili appeared at his elbow. "Go back," he said, not taking his eyes off Smaug.

Smaug's eyes shifted to Fili, "And who would this be?" He looked him over, "No, wait, let me guess.  Same chin, same haughty bearing, same glint in the eye that says you'll hold on long after you've bled out on the ground.  You must be of Thror's line."  He scratched the side of his nose, "Too old to be the youngest, so that would make you Fili.  Thorin's heir, and heir to that same dying breed of dispossessed royalty. My how you've grown."

Bilbo had come up with Fili, but hung back a few paces and escaped Smaug's notice briefly.

Fili tensed but nodded, the motion a quick jerk of his chin. "I'd say good to see you too but that's a lie and I've doubt you've grown much." His stomach twisted at the implied threats and was suddenly glad he'd convinced Kili to do homework and stay home.

"Only in territory, my young friend," Smaug replied easily.  "That reminds me, actually, I had a couple of men found dead in an alley a couple of weeks ago, neither of you would know anything about that, would you?"

"Certainly not," Thorin said and tried not to look at the faint line that marked where Fili had barely missed being shot.

"No," Fili said, posture stiffer as he rolled his shoulder back.

Smaug inclined his head, "I thought it was worth my time to ask."  He paused as he finally caught sight of Bilbo, his expression taking on a definitely predatory gleam.  He had initially thought him an employee, but the fact that Bilbo had yet to leave changed that thought, "And whoever is this?"

Thorin and Fili moved back slightly as if to shield the other and then both realized how foolish that was. Grin sharpening at that, Smaug's eyes lit with a small victory, "I do believe I asked a question."

Bilbo hesitated for a moment before speaking, "My name is Underhill, for from under hill I come."

"Oh a riddler, how quaint," Smaug drawled.  "Where have you been hiding him, Thorin?"

"I haven't been hiding him anywhere," Thorin replied mildly and Fili stepped back to stand closer and in front of Bilbo's shoulder.

"Well, he doesn't seem put off by you.  Which I would say indicates either stupidity, naïveté, or a death-wish," Smaug's tone was conversational, but there was something dangerous in his expression.

"He's just a class mate," Fili replied calmly, aware Bilbo would probably furious for whatever he was about to say. "Who simply doesn't know any better and who ran into us here."

Smaug fixed his gaze on Fili, "Which explains your response, but not your uncle's."  He turned part of his attention away as he heard a group of people approaching, perfect.

Thorin blinked once. "I would be protective of anyone who stepped within a foot of you," he said and Fili's fists tightened at his side.

"And yet he stands not one, but three feet hence," Smaug replied.  He glanced at his men and nodded once as the smallish crowd approached.  "Well, I really should be going.  It was a pleasure to see you as always, Thorin, Fili.  I'm certain we'll meet again, Mr. Underhill."

"Your stench skulks further than three feet," Thorin said, not quite snarling.

Something cold snapped into place behind Smaug's eyes and he moved with the speed of a striking serpent.  Pulling his handkerchief out he snatched up one of the knives displayed nearby and thrust it forward, slamming it home in Thorin's abdomen. Smirking at Bilbo's cry of "Thorin!" he turned the blade and yanked it out, stepping away and disappearing into the crowd that had appeared.  Wiping his hand off on his handkerchief, he folded it and carefully replaced it as he left the store.

Fili made an aborted attempt to go after them before remembering there were three of them--and some years ago that man had killed his family--and yanked himself backward to fall on his knees next to Thorin as the entire store erupted in yells and shrieks.

Bilbo was already kneeling beside Thorin, hands pressed against the wound, hoping to stem some of the bleeding.  His eyes were wide with something that was verging on panic and fixed on Thorin's face as he murmured a steady stream of meaningless words that ranged from curses of Smaug to prayers for time.

Yet they managed to get Thorin to the hospital in a short amount of time, Fili scooping up a pack of cigarettes on the way out the door. He rode with Bilbo, glancing over from time to time and looking down. "You'll need to wash your hands," he said quietly.

Bilbo looked down at where his shaking, blood-stained hands were resting in his lap.  He nodded, not entirely trusting his voice, but speaking regardless, "I-I'll do that. What..." He drew a breath, but found it calmed him not at all, "What have I walked into?"

"What do you mean?" Fili asked carefully, hunting around in his jacket for the lighter Thorin had given him when he turned eighteen, even though he'd stopped smoking several months before. He figured the moment more than excused it.

"What do you mean what do I mean?"  Bilbo turned enough to stare at him, "Your uncle was just stabbed in a department store by a man who obviously thinks nothing of implicit, explicit, or acted upon threats.  What do you think I mean?"

"So Uncle has gained the ire of a crime lord," Fili said, finally finding the lighter and holding the heavy silver in his hands for a long moment, grounding himself before lighting a cigarette. "Must that mean there's something greater going on?"

Bilbo's eyes narrowed and his jaw tensed, "No.  Of course not.  I wouldn't dream of implying that did.  Except for the fact that it was possible to frame the lot of you for murder, which implies something.  Or the fact that said crime lord seemed to think you were responsible for a couple of deaths a few weeks back."  He shook his head, "Maybe I'm figuring this all wrong, but the last time I checked two plus two still equaled four."

"Who's this you you keep talking about?" Fili snapped, "Me personally? Or just my entire family? They framed us because the police are idiots and they don't like outsiders."

"The first was your family.  The second was you personally, possibly your uncle as well.  I don't know!"  Bilbo responded, entire body tense and his emotions strung tight.  Thorin's blood was drying on his hands and he could feel it starting to flake off in a couple of places and it made him want to scream, to lash out, to have a private panic, and to damn well _do_ something all at the same time. "Do you really think any answer you're going to give, or not give, is going to change where I stand?  I thought we dealt with the fact that I'm not a goddamned idiot, Fili."

"Where do you stand?" Fili asked, nervously pulling the braid behind his left ear with his free hand and stopping.

"Where I've been standing for the last two weeks," Bilbo answered, wanting to cross his arms but thinking it a bad plan.  "With you and your family."

Fili shook his head slightly, looking at Bilbo's hands. "And if you find out you don't understand my family?"

Clenching his hands in the hopes that it would stop them shaking so much, the other man fixed him with a long look, "You think I would turn on you because I don't understand?"

"I think you might not much like it when you do understand," Fili replied calmly, watching the smoke curl in front of his face.

"You mean more than I'm not liking it currently?" Bilbo responded, dropping his gaze back to his hands and working to pick at some more of the drying blood.

"Yeah, a lot more," Fili said and rose. "Come on, at least wash your hands."

Drawing a steadying breath, Bilbo rose as well, starting for where he thought he'd seen a washroom, "Fili, I know I'm asking a lot of you, but please.  Try to offer me a grain of trust.  I'm not going to turn on you, or turn you in or whatever it is you're thinking.  I may not like it at all, but you have my word on that count at least."

Fili looked at him for a long moment. "And if I had killed one of those men in the alley?" he asked softly so no one else would hear. "If I told you that man framed us for murder and killed my great grandfather and burned our house to the ground when I was barely a baby?"

Bilbo stared at him for a long moment, trying to find some answer to the one question that seemed to carry the most weight.  He spoke quietly, "I don't know what you expect me to say.  I wouldn't turn you in.  Criminal you may be, in fact I'm pretty certain you are, but you and your family are men of honor, for what that's worth.  Was there a reason for it?"

"For what?" he asked.

"That, that first bit.  About if you, if you had killed one of those men," Bilbo murmured, cursing the fact that he was stammering over his words.

"Was there a reason I killed them, you mean?" Fili asked, in confirmation.

"Yes."

"Because Smaug's men have an order to shoot us first and Kili was there," Fili said quietly, watching the hobbit.

Bilbo met Fili's eyes and then nodded, "Nothing changes in what I just said."  His gaze flickered behind the other man and he spoke even more softly, "Your brother's here."

Fili pivoted on his heel before Bilbo even finished talking, Kili clattering down the hall toward him to collide with his brother. Taking a half step back, Fili braced him. "You said you were going to stop smoking," Kili said into his neck. "Is Thorin--?"

"I don't know," Fili said. "The doctors were hopeful. He's tougher than a knife wound anyway."

Balin approached at a slower pace, but looking no less worried, "Have you heard anything yet, lad?"  Bilbo glanced between the other three and retreated quickly to the wash room.

"No," Fili said. "Where's mother?"

"Dwalin went to go get her from work," Kili murmured, still holding onto him.

Balin watched them for a minute before suggesting quietly that they take a seat, they could have a long wait ahead of them.

w-w-w

Bilbo shut the door to the bathroom, closing his eyes as he leaned heavily against it.  Locking the door he finally pulled himself together enough to trust his legs.  He crossed to the sink and frantically scrubbed at his hands, the water running red.  As the color of the water faded gradually back to a clean white and his hands took on a red hue for an entirely different reason he flinched and shut the water off, finally looking up and catching sight of himself in the mirror.  His wide grey eyes stood out against his paler than normal skin, but that wasn't what drew his gaze. 

He must have pressed his hands to his shirt at some point because there were unmistakable bloodstains on the white fabric.  Gripping the edges of the sink and reminding himself to breathe, the young man felt his head spin and he barely made it to the toilet before he lost what little there was in his stomach. Blinking rapidly to clear the unmistakable stinging behind his eyes, Bilbo sank back against the wall and ended up sitting on the floor, his knees drawn up to his chest, his elbows resting on his knees, and the heels of his hands pressed over his eyes.  He wasn't certain what was worse, the fact that he was drawn to these people, or to one of them specifically, or the fact that a glimpse of what that might mean wasn't putting him off of it.  He drew a shaky breath and closed his eyes tightly, trying to banish the image of Thorin bleeding out on the floor of the department store and found that it wouldn't leave.  Curling closer on himself, Bilbo focused on calming down enough that he could leave.

w-w-w

Fili and Kili were sitting on the bench, Kili's legs drawn up underneath him as he leaned against Fili's side, fiddling with the lighter.

Dis entered, her gaze sweeping quickly around until she spotted her sons.  She crossed to their side and sat down, glancing toward Balin, "Has there been any word?"

"Not yet," the older man murmured in response.

"It's not that bad," Fili said. "I mean," he paused, "There was a lot of blood but it shouldn't have hit anywhere... vital."

Drawing a deep breath, his mother nodded, fiddling with the silver clasp on the braid behind her right ear, "Dwalin said it was Smaug?"

"Yes," Fili said, arm tightening around Kili who glanced up. "He showed up at the store."

Dis ran a slightly shaky hand over the front of her skirt before looking at her eldest son, "He didn't harm you did he?"

"Just threats," Fili murmured and Kili pushed himself up.

"What?" he yelped. "He threatened you and you--"

"It's nothing," Fili said, eying him levelly.

"Thank god for small mercies," Dis murmured, her attention focused between her sons.

"Don't say it's nothing, you always say things aren't nothing when you're trying to pretend you aren't scared and--" Kili started.

"Kili," Fili said quietly. "It was just a threat."

"A threat from Smaug!" Kili snapped. "A threat from him and--he knows who you are now and he's seen you--"

"He's always known," Fili pointed out, looking over as Dwalin entered from where he'd been talking quietly to the nurse.

"Kili," Dis' voice was soft, but her tone called for attention, "Smaug is well aware of who we all are.  It's not nothing, but it's not something to send yourself into this state for right now.  Your brother is alive, and in one piece."

Kili opened his mouth and snapped it shut again, falling back against Fili's side and saying nothing about the last two times he'd seen Fili injured.

Dis sighed, rubbing a hand over her eyes and looking up again to glance at Dwalin.  They needed news, but nothing would make that come any sooner.

Dwalin watched her for a moment before sitting down beside her, Fili and Kili having fallen silent.

Drawing a breath, Dis found herself leaning very slightly against Dawlin's steadying form.  They'd known each other since they were children and he'd always been a safe haven of sorts to her.

Bilbo emerged from the washroom, hesitating when he saw everyone, but quietly made his way over, settling near Balin. Fili looked over, shifting his shoulders and Kili glanced up and then over to Bilbo, scowling as he pieced together the body language. It didn't matter what Bilbo said considering the way his brother tensed.

Dis frowned very slightly, her eyes tracking Bilbo as the young man sank down in a chair and buried his head in his hands.  She glanced at Dwalin, murmuring, "Who...?"

"One of Fili's class mates," he said with a shrug.

Her confusion didn't lessen, but her attention was drawn away as a doctor entered.  The doctor looked around, "Thorin Oakenshield's family?"

"Yes," Fili said, rising and Kili coming up behind his shoulder.

Dis rose as well.  The doctor nodded slightly, "He's stable.  He's currently asleep, but he'll be fine given time and rest."

Fili nodded, glad to have what he suspected confirmed. "Thank you."

"He likely won't wake up for several hours," the doctor spoke.  "You won't be able to see him until morning--he won't be awake before visiting hours end."

Fili nodded, twining his hand with Kili's. "We'll be back in the morning."

Dwalin considered the doctor and then the others. "I'm staying," he said, not adding that someone needed to watch over Thorin asleep or not and his expression dared the doctor to disagree.

The doctor looked at him an at the others.  Dis nodded very slightly and the doctor inclined his head, "Very well."

"I'll call if anything happens," Dwalin assured and Fili inclined his head before looking over at Bilbo.

"Will you come with us?" he asked.

Bilbo looked up, seeming to be trying to figure out for a moment if Fili was talking to him, "If, if you don't mind."

"Come on," Fili said softly. "You still look pretty shaken. I mean, if," he floundered.

Offering him an uncertain smile, Bilbo finally rose and murmured, "Thank you." Fili offered him a tiny smile before leading Kili out of the hospital. Balin and Dis followed the brothers out.  Bilbo hesitated before going to catch up with them.

By the time they entered the apartment building, many of the dwarves were gathered in the lobby, waiting. Dis looked around, drawing a breath, "He'll be alright.  Dwalin's staying with him tonight."

Bifur nodded, glancing at Bilbo with a raised brow. "What happened?" Ori asked, looking at Fili.

"Smaug," he said and the entire room tensed. "We were just... looking for plates and he was there."

Bofur tugged at his left braid, "But, but Thorin's going to be alright?"

Balin nodded, "The doctor says it will take time and rest.  But Smaug missed anything vital."

Ori frowned. "Why would he do that though? He must be more efficient than that so what message was he sending?"

Exchanging glanced, Fili and Kili looked horrified to have not thought of that.

"That he could have done much worse and no one could have stopped him there," Bilbo murmured.  "He did this and vanished."

Ori took one look at the other before saying something about making tea. "We should get you seated," Fili said.

"I'm fine," Bilbo replied unconvincingly.

Bofur looked him over, "You don't much look it.  There's a chair here."

"Come on," Fili said, guiding him over. "Sit and Ori's bringing tea."

Bilbo sank down into the chair, his eyes darting around the entryway.  Oin came over, looking Fili over carefully, "No one else was injured?"

"Just threats," he said, shaking his head.

Oin looked at Bilbo, "And you're alright?"

The younger man nodded, his gaze distant, "I'm fine.  I'm not the one to worry about."

"Then who should we be worrying about?" Fili asked, tilting his head.

Bilbo shook his head, murmuring low enough to be barely audible, "No one.  Doctors say he'll be fine."

Fili and Kili looked at each other again. "Has he gone into shock?" Kili asked, quietly.

"He was angrier earlier," Fili said.

Bombur looked in that direction before crossing over to sit down next to Bilbo, "Are you staying here tonight?"

Drawing a deep breath, Bilbo looked at Bombur, "I, I don't know.  I suppose I may be."

"There's space in my apartment," Bofur offered.

"Or our's," Kili said and Fili looked sharply at him, Ori hesitating from where he was bringing the tea down, wavering.

Bilbo shook his head, "I really don't want to impose."

"It's fine," Kili said brightly as Ori finished coming down the stairs, handing Bilbo the tea and retreating back behind Bombur.

Bilbo accepted the tea with a quiet, "Thank you."  His gaze moved to Kili and then to Fili, "Thank you as well.  I'll be fine, just let me sit quietly for a couple of minutes."

"Alright," Kili said and retreated, Fili hesitating before following.

The foyer had been gradually clearing in the time that they'd been there, once people had been given a rough appraisal of what had happened and that Thorin would recover.  Bilbo looked up again to find that Bofur, Bombur and Ori were still there right around him rather than across the room, "Really, I'm fine.  Just a lot to take in tonight."

"Thorin will be fine," Ori tried to assure him, unaware of anything else that he'd heard that night.

"And when trouble comes again?  How often do you lot get shot or stabbed?" Bilbo asked, his voice taking on a strength it hadn't had since he'd arrived.

"We don't get hit all that often," Bofur responded before he thought about it.

"How often do you get shot _at_ , then?"

"Weekly," Bofur supplied.

"Bofur," Ori hissed, head snapping around.

"What?"  Bofur looked at him in confusion.

"Weekly?" Bilbo asked, his tone uncertain.

Eyes widening, Ori tilted his head as if attempted to tell Bofur to be quiet with just his expression, making an aborted motion to Bilbo. Bofur didn't look any less confused, but he nodded, "Aye, just about weekly.  Depends on where we are, of course."

Resting his elbows on his knees and drawing deep breaths, Bilbo nodded, "I see."

"You alright there?"  Bombur asked, putting a hand on Bilbo's shoulder, which was shrugged off.

"Just need a bit of air.  I'm fine."

"Bofur," Ori hissed again. "Stop talking."

Bofur finally accepted the chastisement and fell silent, gaze darting to Bilbo, "Oh, right."

Ori let out a long breath, looking back at Bilbo. "Are you alright?" he asked again.

"I'm fine," Bilbo responded.  "It's just been a lot to take in in one day."

Pausing, Ori looked at Bombur and Bofur before turning back to the other. "What have you had to take in?" he asked, suddenly more wary.

"Confirmation that you all don't exactly walk the straight and narrow.  Though I suppose that's rather an understatement, actually," Bilbo replied.  Bofur stilled at that, eying Bilbo warily before his gaze darted to his brother as Bombur drew his hand back.

Ori's eyes darted across the lobby where Fili and Kili were standing, heads bowed as they talked quietly, one of Kili's hands on Fili's crossed arms. "And how far off the straight and narrow are we?" he asked, assuming that if anyone had told Bilbo something it was Fili.

"Fili admitted to killing one of the men Smaug said had died a couple of weeks ago.  I don't have specifics beyond that, but I have suspicions."

Bofur shifted slightly, knowing which men Bilbo meant and knowing his bullet found the second one.

"There was _another_ run in with Smaug recently?" Ori asked, shock on his features for not having heard about it.

"Just his men," Bofur murmured.  "They didn't know we were there, fortunately.  It, was kept pretty quiet."

Ori looked between him and Fili and Bombur, trying mentally decide who had gotten in trouble with the greatest frequency. "You're as bad a Fili," he declared finally.

"I was with Fili," Bofur answered almost indignantly.  "Why do you think it was kept so quiet?"  Bombur frowned at his brother, but didn't say anything.

Opening his mouth Ori closed it again, looking at Bilbo. "Is the tea to your satisfaction?"

Bilbo offered him a ghost of a smile, "It's quite good, calming.  Thank you, Ori."

Ori tried to return the smile instead of glaring at Bofur, unsure why his stomach was twisting. His own brothers had come home shot more often than not, and he didn't like the fear. "Good."

Bilbo finished off the tea, handing the cup back to Ori and carefully rising, "Thank you, all.  Really, please don't worry about me.  I'm fine.  Just need a bit of time to process."

"If you say so," Ori said, not convinced in the least.

Bofur took a half-step back to give Bilbo a bit more space, "Did you decide where you're to stay?"

Bilbo rolled a shoulder, "If Kili's invitation is still open I think I'll be taking them up on it.  Thank you for your offer, though."

Ori paid more attention to gathering the tea cup back up for his brother than what felt like relief at that.

Bombur hefted himself out of his chair, "Well, now that this is sorted, I think I'll be heading upstairs myself."

"Good night," Ori said brightly.

Bombur offered him a smile and a pat on the shoulder as he passed on his way up to his family's apartment.  Bilbo slipped away to check with Fili and Kili about space, leaving Bofur and Ori nominally alone.

Turning the cup over in his hands a couple times, Ori finally looked over sideways at Bofur, unsure what to say or exactly how he was reacting.

Bofur ran a hand over the back of his neck.  He was pretty sure from the expressions that had been crossing Ori's face that he owed an apology for something, but he wasn't sure why and he wasn't sure for what.  Not being one to offer uncertain apologies he bit his lip as he reconsidered what he'd said and done and why he might need to assure Ori of something.  Not to mention, why he felt the need to do so in the first place.

"Good night," Ori said finally, pushing himself to his feet.

"I..."  Bofur fell silent and nodded, "Good night, Ori."

Hesitating, Ori glanced back at him. "Was there something else?"

His lips curling into a half-smile that seemed a hair weaker than usual, Bofur shook his head, "No.  Nothing else.  Have a good night."

"You were going to say something else," Ori said and shook his head. "I suppose it doesn't matter. Sleep well."

Bofur resisted the urge to point out how unlikely that was, but simply nodded, "Sleep well too."

Giving him a fleeting smile, Ori took the stairs back up to the apartment he shared with Dori. Waiting until Ori was all the way up the stairs, Bofur retreated as well, closing the door to his solitary apartment and settling in for a restless night on the couch.

w-w-w

With a sigh, Fili flopped back onto his bed, arms outstretched. "Did you have to tell him?" Kili asked, pulling off his shirt before sliding under the covers and curling up on one of Fili's arms.

"Hm?" Fili hummed. "Bilbo?"

"It seems a shame," Kili said, nuzzling up to his neck and Fili's breath stuttered.

"Kili," he warned and the younger hummed. "He was scared and he kept asking. I'd rather--I'd rather have someone know than have to lie to them."

"I suppose," Kili said after a moment.

Fili tilted his nose down, burying it in Kili's hair. "You shouldn't have offered him your bed," he said quietly.

"Our uncle was stabbed today," Kili said. "I think most of the people here remember when we always shared a bed anyway."

"But we've grown up a lot since then," Fili murmured. "It's odder now."

Kili hummed again, draping his arm around Fili's waist. "I just want to sleep here," he said, breath ghosting over Fili's ear. "No one will question it, not tonight, not after everything."

"Things have changed," Fili protested, weaker than earlier.

"They don't know that," Kili said and Fili sighed, bringing the hand that Kili was laying on up to tangle in his hair.

"Then go to sleep, brother," he said and Kili smiled into his chest.

w-w-w

Bilbo was up with the sun the next morning, remaking the bed and puttering around the room while trying not to snoop until he heard Fili and Kili stirring.  He'd slept fitfully the previous night and had been awake for a good deal longer than he'd actually been up.

Finally the door opened, Fili shoving Kili out. "Go shower," he commanded and glanced over at Bilbo. "How are you?" he asked, moving to the kitchenette.

"Vertical," Bilbo answered.  "Better for a night's rest."

“Do you like eggs?" Fili asked, looking at him sideways and hair mostly having fallen out of his braids during the night.

Bilbo nodded, crossing to the kitchenette as he rubbed his left eyes, dark circles under both of them, "Yes, thank you."

"You don't look terribly rested," Fili said softly. "Is there... is there anything I could do?"

"Thank you, but no, I don't..." He hesitated, "If I could catch a ride with you to the hospital this morning?"

"Are you sure?" Fili asked.

Nodding again, Bilbo  rested a hand on the back of one of the chairs at the table, "I know what the doctor said, but I'd feel better if I could see Thorin for myself."

Fili considered him a moment. "Of course," he said, before handing Bilbo a plate with the first of the scrambled eggs before cracking several more over the pan.

Taking the plate, Bilbo settled at the table, watching Fili for a long moment, "How are you doing?"

"I don't know," he said, focusing on the eggs. "It's been a long few weeks."

"Is there anything you want to, or can, talk about?"  His friend asked softly.

Fili flipped the eggs over before saying anything. "I've heard stories of Smaug since I was born," he said finally. "But I've never met him before, not in person like that."

Bilbo thought about that, remembering what Fili had told him about his family's history with Smaug, "Are you going to be alright?"

"I hope so," he said. "But he's coming after us again."

"Is there any way I can help you?"

"Like what?" Fili asked, actually curious what Bilbo might suggest as he set aside a plate for his brother.

Bilbo ran a hand through his hair, setting the curls awry, "I'm not really sure right now.  I just...I don't want to stand by and watch this happen to you all."

"It's been happening a long time," Fili said as Kili emerged, face scrubbed clean and hair wet as he swiped the plate Fili had left for him off the counter. "But thank you."

"I'm not certain I can justify saying 'you're welcome' in this situation," Bilbo murmured, dropping his gaze to his plate. "But you've any help I can give you." Kili glanced over at him in surprise, fork halfway to his mouth before he looked over at Fili.

Bilbo picked at his food for a moment, but glanced up, catching Kili's expression and trying briefly to catch Fili's eye.

Returning both of their looks, Fili frowned slightly. "Yeah?" he asked.

Shaking his head, Bilbo said nothing as he returned to his breakfast. "I need to shower," Fili said after a moment, pulling the last of his braids out of his hair before shaking his head slightly and disappearing, leaving Kili and Bilbo at the rickety table.

Glancing up again, Bilbo looked at Kili, "And how are you holding up?"

From where he'd been hunched over the table eating, Kili's eyes moved over without turning his head before he straightened. "Fine," he said finally. "I grew up with events like this," he added. "Though it doesn't much make it easier."

Bilbo sighed, shaking his head slightly as he looked back at his plate, "I don't suppose it would."

"It does in some ways too," Kili said, peering at him. "I mean, you expect it so it's not so shocking but it still hurts. If... if you stick around. The first time can only happen once."

"As I told your brother last night, I've no intention of leaving," the other murmured.

Brows twitching together, Kili watched him. "Why?" he asked after a long moment of just considering the other.

Considering that question for a long moment, Bilbo raised his eyes again, "Because I find myself caring what happens to you all."

That just made Kili's frown more pronounced. "Yeah? Why?"

"Must there be a why?"

"Well," Kili paused. "I don't know, something. It just seems odd is all."

Bilbo paused for a long moment, "Odd to stand by people I consider friends?  At the very least I consider your brother a friend.  And I'm starting to consider a good deal of the rest of you similarly."  He hesitated, "Though I'm still not sure what to make of you."

Pausing, Kili glanced toward where he could still hear the water running. "And what would you like to make of us?"

"I meant you specifically," Bilbo answered.  "I was pretty certain you hated me."

"Oh," Kili stopped again, eating a bite of eggs off the fork to try and figure out what to say. "That was... a misunderstanding," he said finally, trying not to think about the way he'd glared and snarled when he'd seen Fili smile at someone else, someone he didn't know and someone who then might have taken Fili away.

Bilbo's eyebrows rose slightly at that, "A misunderstanding.  Fair enough. I'm glad that's been cleared up, then?"

"It was silly," Kili said, eyes sliding away. "It's fine now, truly."

"As I said, I'm glad of that."  He looked toward the door where Fili had disappeared, speaking before he thought about it, "Who all is going to be going to the hospital this morning, do you think?"

"Us three," Kili said. "Mother will come back later in the afternoon since she works weekends. Dwalin's there so Balin might. But right now... outside us I don't know."

"And we'll be able to go once Fili's out of the shower?" God, he was tired.  He needed confirmation with his own eyes that Thorin was going to be alright, but he also needed to go home and sleep in his own bed. And perhaps not wake up for a couple of days.

"Soon after," Kili agreed as the water clicked off and he shoved what food remained on his plate in his mouth. "Did you sleep alright?" he asked, eying the hobbit. "I know it's not a very comfortable bed and all but--"

"No, the bed was fine.  It was just a long night," Bilbo answered, finishing his own breakfast.  "I don't sleep exceptionally well in places I'm unfamiliar with to begin with."

"Ah," Kili said softly as Fili emerged, hair hanging around his face as he wolfed down the food he'd cooked earlier but hadn't eaten. Kili rose to stand behind him, quickly braiding his hair through long practice.

Bilbo watched them quietly for a moment before rising and gathering his and Kili's dishes and placing them in the sink.  He buttoned his jacket over the same white shirt he'd worn the day before, effectively covering the stains that were on it.

"Do you need to borrow a shirt?" Kili asked, fingers still tangled up in his brother's hair.

"If you think you have one that would fit me right, I wouldn't say no to it," Bilbo answered after a pause.

"It'll be a bit broad but if you're already wearing the coat," Kili shrugged. "Anything of mine is going to fit you better than Fili's," he added and Fili tilted his chin back to look at him. "No, hold still you idiot, I hate this braid and you're making me mess it up."

Bilbo ran a hand through his curls, "I'd appreciate that, thank you."

"Just let me finish," Kili murmured, tying off the last braid his brother wore with a sound of triumph.

A short while later after Fili had finished breakfast and Bilbo had changed into a clean shirt, the three of them left.  Arriving at the hospital they made their way down the hall to the correct room.  Bilbo paused for the briefest of moments before stepping inside behind the brothers.

Leaning against the wall, Dwalin tilted his head when they entered, going back to the pipe he'd been smoking from, having sworn off cigarettes after the war. Thorin sat up in bed, and the two stopped whatever conversation they were having, Thorins' eyes lighting when he saw his nephews.

Bilbo hesitated in the doorway, feeling like he was intruding and willing to depart and leave them to it now that he'd seen with his own eyes that THorin was alive and awake.

Once Kili had seated himself at the edge of the bed, Fili at his shoulder, Thorin tilted his head enough to see Bilbo at the door way, shock on his face before he offered the other a smile. "Hello," he said, Dwalin frowning over.

The smile he received in return was uncertain as Bilbo took a few steps into the room, "Hello. How--" he broke off before deciding he might as well ask, "How are you feeling?"

"It's not that bad," Thorin said, though his face looked more pale than usual against his dark hair. "I'm feeling perfectly fine," he added and Dwalin huffed.

Bilbo looked skeptical at that, "What are the doctors saying?"

"About the same," Thorin said with a quirked brow. "I lost some blood but not too much and it missed anything vital. So long as I don't strain myself it should heal with little beyond another small scar."

"I'm glad to hear that," Bilbo murmured, almost visibly relaxing with confirmation.

"And yourself, Mr. Baggins?" Thorin asked, even as he reached out to grip Kili's hand and smiling as the younger relaxed slightly.

"I'm quite alright, Mr. Oakenshield," came the response.  "I simply wished to be certain you were."

Thorin nodded, though he glanced at Fili as if in confirmation of that fact.

"He stayed with us last night," Fili said softly and Thorin's brows went up, not entirely sure how to react to that information.

Bilbo rocked back on his heels, darting a glance to Fili and unsure if he really wanted to retreat.  It was something that was a serious consideration, but he paused at voices in the hall. Hearing the voices, Dwalin glanced at Thorin and murmured something about going to get coffee, slipping out of the room before the police reached their doorway.

Bard tapped on the open door as the officers stepped inside, "We received reports of a stabbing."  He bit back anything further he wanted to say about not being surprised it was someone involved with Erebor.

"Did you now?" Thorin replied mildly, Fili eying the office warily.

"Created quite the stir considering the location.  We were hoping you'd be willing to answer a few questions, get this all sorted out."

"Certainly," Thorin said and paused, glancing at Kili. "Could you please fetch some coffee?" he asked, well aware Dwalin wouldn't be back and wanting the youngest out of the room.

"But--" Kili started to protest and instead just nodded, rising and giving the officers a dark look. "Of course," he demurred, sliding past them carefully.

Bard arched an eyebrow at that before turning back to look at the three remaining men, "Is that everyone you're getting out of this conversation or shall I wait a bit longer?"

Thorin just stared at him. "I wanted coffee," he said. "And I've only woken up."

Returning the look levelly, Bard finally nodded, "Well, then let's start with the basic question.  Can you describe the person who did this?"

"I could give you a name if it would make that easier for you," Thorin drawled. "Or would you prefer the go around of description first?"

"I'll take the name if you have it.  Though I could take a guess and have a fifty percent chance of being right as to who you'll be pointing at," Bard replied.

Thorin's smile turned cold. "Of course you could," he murmured. "Would you dismiss it if I said Smaug then?"

"No, but I might ask for witnesses," his gaze drifted to Fili, "who don't have a personal stake in this."

Bilbo spoke up, "I'll stand as that witness.  I can give you a description of the man."

Bard's eyebrows twitched slightly at that and he turned his attention to Bilbo, "And you are?"

"Bilbo Baggins, a student at the university and a waiter at Gandalf's--Officer Thranduil can vouch for that credential."

"You could canvas the store as well," Thorin said mildly. "A tall blond man in an impeccable suit with two bodyguards and a penchant for stabbing people. I'm sure he's recognizable."

"We're in process on that, but so far most of those descriptions have been vague at best," Bard responded.  "I do find it interesting that you're attacked by both Azog and Smaug within two weeks of each other."

Thorin blinked once and Fili shifted half a step back. "Yes, indeed," Thorin drawled instead. "Maybe they've just decided they really dislike us." It wasn't actually uncommon either, though rarely reported to the police.

"What a surprise that is," Bard murmured before turning his attention to Bilbo.  "How did you happen to be here so fortuitously when we needed a witness?"

Bilbo's jaw tensed, liking the tone of the questions less and less, "The last I saw yesterday, Mr. Oakenshield was being brought here because he had been bleeding out in the kitchen department of that store.  I simply came to see how he fared and what news there was of his recovery."

"Just a bystander?"

"I attend classes with Fili at the university, so I know him beyond this situation, if that's what you're asking," Bilbo responded, keeping his tone even.

"We also regularly go to Gandalf's," Fili said. "As you well know. Running into someone you know usually ends in speaking to them and we ran into Bilbo that day."

Bard hummed slightly at that, nodding, "Well, we'll be needing statements from all of you, and if we have any more questions we know where to find you."

"Of course you will," Thorin said, Kili entering with two cups of coffee for Thorin and one for Fili considering the circles under the other's eyes.

Bard inclined his head and exited, Bilbo watching him go with a frown. Fili happily accepted the coffee, even as Kili shook his head slightly, Thorin watching Bilbo. "Yes?" he asked warily.

Grimacing, Bilbo shook his head, "Don't care for him, is all.  You were stabbed and he comes in here like he's looking for a reason to catch you in a lie."

Thorin's brow arched. "That's because he was," he said quietly.

"Which doesn't endear him to me," Bilbo replied simply.

"He's an ass," Kili muttered and Fili looked over.

"He's just narrow minded."

"Which doesn't preclude him being an ass," Bilbo remarked glancing from the brothers back to Thorin.  "One would think you'd stabbed yourself, by the tone he was taking."

"That would not surprise me," Thorin said with a small smile. "Stab myself in a hope to get attention or put the blame elsewhere. You could perhaps add paranoia to his narrow mind and bastard tendencies."

Bilbo grimaced again at that, finally taking a seat, "Are they all that biased against you?"

Thorin and Fili exchanged a look. "Or so," Thorin said finally. "There are many reasons."

Nodding as he considered that, Bilbo dropped his gaze to where he was absently scratching the back of his left hand, "He mentioned an 'Azog'.  May I ask who that is and how much of this town is actively trying to kill you all?"

"All of it," Kili said happily.

"Just most of it," Fili corrected. "Azog is a brute who runs a gang down by the docks. He's been flourishing since prohibition happened."

"He killed our grandfather and had decided he'd like to wipe out the rest of us," Kili added, still sounding surprisingly happy, even though something behind his eyes were darkening.

"And Smaug..." Fili started and looked over at Thorin who was just watching Bilbo's face. "Smaug's been after our family even longer. He killed our great-grandfather when we still had anything, and burned our home down, before the war. I think he's just annoyed he hasn't stomped on all of us yet, though strictly speaking Azog should be more of a threat."

Bilbo watched the brothers, wide-eyed as he took in what they said, "So." He cleared his throat and tried again, his voice still not as strong as he might have liked, "So you have two flourishing mobs out to wipe you all out of existence, and the police looking for any excuse to come down on you for your less than legal activities.  Am I keeping up so far?"

"Yeah, that sounds pretty accurate," Kili said after a pause as they all actually considered.

"Well, I suppose that's a good thing to be aware of," Bilbo said, more to himself than to the others. Kili shrugged and Thorin looked between the other three, considering them all.

Bilbo ran a hand through his hair, "Any estimates on when they'll be letting you leave, yet?"

"Today, with luck," Thorin said. "It's not a deep wound and I would rather not remain here."

Nodding very slightly and determining he was probably steady again, Bilbo rose, "I hope you reach a full recovery soon."

"Thank you," Thorin said, meeting his eyes.

Offering him a bit of a smile, Bilbo nodded, "You're welcome I suppose.  I, I should be on my way."

"Of course," Thorin rumbled. "Thank you for coming."

"Of course.  Take care, Thorin.  I'll see you later," giving a half-bow, Bilbo excused himself and left.

The three of them watched him leave, Fili finishing the coffee. "Are you truly going to be alright?" he asked, looking over at Thorin who nodded.

"Yes, I truly am."


	7. That was an Easy Shot

The following Friday found the company of thirteen, minus the one on bed rest, at Gandalf's again.  Bofur had been managing to dodge any questions Bombur posed regarding Ori, and while not actively avoiding Ori had been giving him a more conscious berth than he did normally, which was why it was a problem when he found himself seated across the table and two seats down from the younger man.  He participated in the weekly utensil war, but kept getting distracted as his gaze drifted to Ori, yelping when Gloin managed to prick him hard with a fork.

That startled Ori into looking over, Gloin frowning. "What's got you distracted like?" he asked, Ori ducking his head back down. "That was an easy shot, Bofur."

Bofur rubbed the back of his hand, shaking his head and lying, "Was watching for an attack from Nori, should have known better."

Nori scoffed at him, Ori looking sideways at his brother. "Would I ever do such a thing?" he asked, hand over his heart.

"All the time," Bofur answered with a grin.

Nori rolled his eyes and went back to focusing on his food, hungry after running most of the day from one side of town to the other. Tilting his head, Ori considered Bofur before looking down again. Bofur caught Ori's glance but quickly turned his attention away to Gloin, "How's Gimli been this week?"

Gloin made a huffing sound. "There's been no more bloody noses that I've seen. He's as surely as ever of course. I think I even heard him humming something like jazz the other day, but of course, like his mother's side the lad can't carry a tune to save him."

That got a laugh from Bombur, "There are worse things than him humming jazz, Gloin."

Gloin muttered something into his beard that didn't sound like he believed it in the least. "What's wrong with our traditional songs though?" he complained and still looking down, the corners of Ori's mouth quirked upward.

"He knows them, doesn't he?" Bombur asked.

"Yes, of course," Gloin said, brows inching together. "What are you implying, that I wouldn't teach him?"

"No, that's not what I was implying at all," Bombur assured.  "But if he knows them already, there's no harm in him humming a bit of jazz now and again, even if he is off-tune.  Pick your battles, Gloin."

"Like that blasted boy he keeps fighting with?" Gloin offered, shaking his head and looking like he wished his son was as simple as a math equation he could solve.

"Exactly like that," Bombur agreed.

Dori glanced over at his youngest brother, considering Ori's plate, "You really ought to have some sort of a salad, Ori."

Ori blinked at him once before wrinkling his nose. "But," he protested and just shook his head.

"I'm not saying much, but a little bit wouldn't do badly for you."

"Oh leave him be," Nori said, leaning around Ori's other side to grin at his older brother. "He can eat what he wants."

"Nori, I don't recall asking for your input," Dori responded, evenly.

"You know, I've noticed that you never do," Nori said, eyes narrowing and Ori wished he wasn't between his brothers. Though, being between them was better than them sitting beside each other with no one between the pair of them. "I'm his family too."

Dori frowned, taking a sip of his tea--he had to grudgingly admit that it had been getting progressively better as the weeks had gone on, "If I thought your contribution would be of use I would ask for it."

Nori's mouth twitched and he drew his lips back into a snarl. "Stop it," Ori said quietly, looking between them. "Please? I'll eat a salad, okay?"

Pausing for a long moment, Dori sighed, "I'm sorry, Ori."

Instead of informing both his brothers they should be, Ori just nodded, Nori slinking back to his seat with a murmured apology. Dori turned his attention back to his meal, not catching the look Bofur sent toward Ori.

Ori did though, raising a brow. "Yeah?" he asked softly, picking at the salad that had been set in the middle of the table. Bofur shook his head very slightly, and dropped his gaze away.

Picking some of the peppers from the salad and finally, with a sigh, giving into the lettuce, Ori frowned at him.

Sitting next to Bofur, Bifur shook his head, working through his meal before shoving Bofur under the table. Bofur startled slightly at that, looking at his cousin in confusion. Bifur shook his head, muttering under his breath before shoving Bofur again.

Bofur frowned slightly and glanced at Bombur who raised his eyebrows and then nodded toward where Ori was.  Bofur offered his brother a long look and turned back to Ori, "How's your project going?"

"Well," Ori said brightly. "I'm almost done and then it's up for grading."

Grinning at that, Bofur nodded, "Well, I wish you luck.  It's certainly been shaping up."

Blinking at him, Ori offered him a hesitant smile. "Thanks," he said. "I sure hope it has." Beside him, Nori glanced over.

"You said it's going to be a blanket when it's done, right?"

"Yeah," he said happily. "If I can get the colors in the right order it should even look good."

"Any chance I can see it when it's done?" Bofur asked, grinning still.

Ori blinked at him, and then smiled brightly. "If you like."

"I would," Bofur nodded, smile softening very slightly.

"Then I'll be sure to bring it by," Ori said, ducking his head down and Bifur just stared sideways at his cousin.

Dori glanced up, considering his youngest brother and looking across the table toward Bofur with a slight frown.

"How is your carving?" Ori asked.

Bofur rolled a shoulder, "It's doing alright. Nothing too much."

"Well, alright is better than it could be," Ori said and Gloin considered the pair, leaning over to get his brother's attention.

Oin looked at his brother, lifting his ear trumpet to hear what was being said.  Bofur offered a bit of a smile to Ori, "Thanks.  We'll see how they come out in the end I guess."

"The cat looked pretty," Ori said and looked down again.

"I nearly cut its paw off," Bofur said, looking briefly confused.  "It's fixed though, and almost done."

"It was still lovely," Ori said and Bifur looked to his other cousin as if hoping Bombur would give him strength.

Bombur offered Bifur a long-suffering look in response, wishing he could offer better than that.  Even if it meant knocking some sense into Bofur--or attempting to. Bifur made a motion with his hands, clearly asking if hitting Bofur wouldn't be a better plan. That earned a soft chuckle a shrug and a nod, Bombur was willing to grant that it might work. Tilting his head, Bifur considered and realized he wouldn't know which one to hit first. Finally, he shook his head.

w-w-w

Leaning against Fili's shoulder, Kili looked around the park. "Why are we here again?" he asked, eyes narrowed at a passerby whose look was dark.

"Because that building is driving me mad," Fili said, looking over his notes. "And I wanted to get outside."

"It's cold," Kili complained. "And in public."

Hesitating, Fili looked over at him, hoping the desire in his gut wouldn't be obvious to anyone walking past. "And if we weren't in public?" he asked, keeping both his hands on his notes instead of letting one inch around Kili's waist.

Smirking, Kili leaned slightly closer, barely restraining himself. "Well, I know the building's driving you nuts, there there's a couple doors between us and anyone else and a really nice bed..."

"The bed's not that nice," Fili dismissed and Kili rolled his eyes.

"It is if you're there."

"Let me finish this," Fili said, looking over. "Then we can go back. Just a little more fresh air."

"They say fresh air clears the mind for some.  Does it work that way for you?" A low voice drawled from behind Fili's right shoulder.

Kili blinked in confusion as suddenly his brother rolled off the bench, hand on the gun he carried before he'd even turned but not drawing it yet. He dragged Kili off the bench and out of the reach of the other, casting his eyes around for other gunmen.

Smaug spread his hands wide, smiling as smoke coiled up from the cigarette held in his right hand, "Now, as you can see I'm unarmed.  Whoever is this?"  He looked over Kili for a long moment, the expression dismissive.

"No one," Fili said automatically and Kili looked over at him, shock evident on his features before he got another good look at the man in front of him. "Besides," Fili continued as Kili tried not to slink behind his brother's shoulder but stand beside him. "Last time you were unarmed, you still stabbed someone."

"No kitchen utensils here."  He sized Kili up again, "Hm, I would hazard a guess that this is the younger brother--Kili, unless I'm much mistaken."

"You have a cigarette and it's burning," Fili said, and finally gave in, pushing Kili behind him.

"And you think I could cause murder with that?"

"Severe damage," Fili amended. "Do you want something?"

"I was on my way through and saw the two of you.  I thought I would say hello to you, that's all.  Check and see how your dear uncle is doing."

“He's doing fine," Fili deadpanned back.

"Fili," Kili murmured, pulling at his elbow. "We should go. We need to go."

"Yes, listen to the little one crawl back into that decrepit rat-hole you all call home," Smaug purred, a smirk gracing his features.

"It's not--" Kili started to protest. "And I'm not little, I'm taller than he is."

Not wanting to actually say his name, Fili shot his brother a dark look and Kili snapped his mouth shut.

"You've not even reached adulthood, child," Smaug crooned, green eyes locking on Kili, his smile holding the hint of a predator.

"I'm old enough," he protested.

"Kili, shut _up_ ," Fili managed, shifting to be more in front of him.

Taking a long drag of the cigarette, Smaug blew the smoke in their direction, "How delightfully stupid of you.  You certainly are of Thorin's blood."

Both brothers froze, staring at him. Sucking in a deep breath, Fili pulled Kili back with him. "We should go," he said, not taking his eyes off Smaug. "Come on."

"Take care, both of you.  I would hate to think what your mother would do if anything should happen," he waved languidly to them.

"Don't you dare--" Kili started, taking a step forward and Fili pulled him back, arm actually wrapping around his chest.

Smaug's smile was all teeth, "I'll dare what I like, child.  Who's going to stop me?  You?"

"You say that like you don't think I could," Kili snarled and Fili tried not to scream at his brother.

Smaug took a step toward them, entirely at his ease, "I think one day you'll be away from the protective eye of your brother and uncle and then we'll see if you can."

"I don't need--" Kili started.

" _Brother,_ " Fili snapped and the panic in his voice made Kili stop. "Please, stop talking."

Smaug drew his gaze away from Kili to look Fili in the eye, "Such caring.  You're all so foolishly loyal and protective.  It's almost endearing to see such weakness."

“I'm glad you think so," Fili said, eyes narrowed.

"Pull a lynch-pin and watch you break.  Rationality leaves and all that's left is passion," Smaug's gaze drifted back to Kili again.  "Passion will get you killed."

"Most cultures value love and passion for your family," Fili shot back.

"Passionate hatred, though?  There's where your danger lies, young one."

"Do you think I hate you then?" Fili asked, tilting his chin back slightly.

"I think that if I killed the right person you certainly would," Smaug replied, eyes drifting to where Fili's arm still encircled his brother's chest.

Fili tightened his grip and Kili tried not to stumble back against him. "I wouldn't let you," he said.

"Do you think that you could possibly stop me?  You're hardly more of a child than he was.  Too young to remember the way the red flames danced up the walls of Erebor."

"And you're getting very old," Fili replied, tilting his head slightly.

"With age comes wisdom," Smaug returned.  "Pity you won't have the chance to learn that."

"Yeah, but you're getting slow," Fili replied and Kili kicked his shin, hoping now that his brother would shut up.

Smaug's lips curled, "I'm still sharp enough to find your weakest point, Fili, heir to a dissolute monarchy."

Fili's face blanked and he shrugged. "Do you think those digs at our past are going to affect me like they affect Thorin?" he asked, voice carefully level. "Besides, it's not hard to find."

"Perhaps not," Smaug considered them.  "But it is a good thing to know the strength of, nevertheless."  He took a step away from them, "Run along home now, children.  Back to your room and your bed."

"Why would we--" Kili started and paled, Fili's expression still blank as he could manage it.

"That's an odd insinuation."

"Is it?" Smaug asked, looking the two of them over.  "You should be more cautious about the conversations you have in public."

"We'll keep that in mind," Fili said, slowly starting to back up and dragging Kili with him.

Smaug watched them go, chuckling deep in the back of his throat once they were out of sight.  Oh that was an interesting tidbit of knowledge.

"Fili," Kili protested once they were around the corner, Fili trying to scan the area in front of them and behind them, certain that Smaug or his men were just not going to let them pass. "Fili!"

"What?" he asked, snapping his head over finally.

"The hell was that?" Kili demanded.

"What was what? I mean, which part of that?" Fili shook his head, still dragging his brother as he all but bolted out of the park.

"All of it," Kili murmured and once they were out of the park, Fili relaxed slightly.

"I don't know," Fili said, shaking his head again and when they reached the apartments they bolted into their room, passing Ori and Bifur with a quick nod. Once inside, Fili shoved Kili up against the door.

"What're--" Kili started and Fili slammed their mouths together, fingers winding in the lapels of Kili's jacket.

Drawing back faster than Kili would have liked, Fili rested their foreheads together. "If you see him again," he murmured. "Run."

"We're the line of Durin," Kili said, bringing his hands up to run over Fili's hair, tilting his head down. "We're not supposed to run."

"I don't care," Fili murmured. "If you _ever_ see him alone, just run. Just run for it. Please."

Eyes softening, Kili tilted his chin up to kiss his brother's forehead. "Do you really think he knows?" he asked.

"I think he guessed and hit right," Fili said. "So please, just run."

"Alright," Kili murmured. "But how about I just avoid running into him in the first place?"

Choking back something that might have been a sob and might have been a laugh, Fili nodded, tangling his fingers in Kili's hair to pull him into an open mouthed kiss.

w-w-w

Dis entered her brother's bedroom, an extra pillow and a book in hand.  She set the book down next to him pointedly, "You're on bed rest.  You do remember what that means, right?"

"I may have heard something about not being supposed to move," Thorin remarked, looking up and then over to the book.

"That would be correct.  Don't look at the book like that, it's off your shelf and had a bookmark in it.  Unless there is another volume you would prefer, it's what I picked up," Dis spoke briskly.

"It'll do," Thorin said mildly. "I'm surprised you approached my bookshelf at all."

His sister offered him a long look at that, "Just because I disapprove of your choices, or the fact that my sons got their hands on your books, does not mean I cannot bend a little when it might mean you stay in bed."

He opened his mouth to say something and shrugged instead, deciding not to tell his sister what her sons had found on their own time. "Thank you then," he said instead.

"Is there anything else I can fetch for you?"

"No," he said, shaking his head, "Except possibly company. There are reasons I've never taken to bed rest."

"You've always been too active to let your body have the rest it needs," she responded, considering and pulling a chair from the corner nearer to the bed.

"It's only gotten worse with age," Thorin agreed. "People try to assure me that I'll slow down."

Dis shook her head, sitting down in the chair, "No one would know what to do with you if you did slow down."

"It wouldn't do anyone any good," Thorin said. "I have too much to do as it is with too little time to do it."

"It will do everyone less good, however if you manage to make yourself worse by doing things too soon."

Thorin sighed, turning the book over in his hands a few times. "If you say so," he said. "It seems such a tiny wound for this though."

"The doctors are worried about it re-opening.  Another day, Thorin, and then you're free to do as you like," Dis replied quietly.

"Yes," he agreed, hand touching the edge of the bandages and thinking that he'd moved many times with something much worse. But that had been a decade ago. "And how have you been faring?"

Dis' hand rose to fiddle with the silver clasp on her right braid, "As well as ever.  Worrying about you and my sons, though with you here I can at least be assured of your safety for the moment."

"Whereas they are still inclined to go outside?" Thorin said, smiling faintly.

Her lips curled upward very slightly at that, "Exactly.  Though really they've little choice of it when it comes to school."

"I think you underestimate how much Kili at least would rather not go to school," Thorin said. "Though Fili seems like he would like to be a good student."

"If Kili wasn't going to school I still wouldn't be able to keep him home.  At least if he's at school I have some idea of what's happening," Dis replied. She paused and shook her head, "And I swear I'm not trying to be as actively controlling as that sounds."

He laughed. "Are you sure of that, sister?"

Dis couldn't help a faint smile at that, "I'm sure.  I never see him anymore, he's spending all his time at his brother's apartment.  He also happens to be the only one of you three who hasn't gotten himself injured with more than a bruise in the last month."

"Has he been spending so much time there?" Thorin asked, arching a brow. "I'd thought the point was for Fili to have his own space."

"That was the original intent, which lasted all of a month and a half.  But the last couple of weeks, Kili's been there constantly to the best of my knowledge," Dis responded.

Thorin hummed. "At least they are still getting along. There was a time when they glared and snarled at each other so much I was sure someone was about to go mad or we'd witness a terrible calamity between them."

"They seem to have passed that stage," Dis agreed.  "Thank goodness.  I don't know how much longer anyone could have taken their snarling."

Thorin laughed and shook his head. "Not long, most like. But otherwise?" he asked. "You are well otherwise?"

She nodded, her smile gentle, "Otherwise life continues as always."

"That at least may be a comfort," he said, still turning the book over and seeming to consider something before discarding saying it.

Dis caught his expression, "What is it?"

"It's odd to me sometimes," he said. "That our conversation has become so stilted when once I feel like you would have told me anything and I you."

Dis considered that for a moment, something like regret settling in her gaze, "A lot has passed since then.  It seems a different life, before the War, before the Flu."

"It was a different world," Thorin said. "You disapprove of me more now," he added with a wry smile.

"I don't disapprove of _you_ , brother.  Some of your choices, perhaps.  And most certainly my fourteen-year-old finding certain books of yours," Dis answered with a shake of her head and a faint smile.  "But, you're right.  There was a time when we could talk for hours about anything.  And I don't even know when this began."

"I hardly think whatever books I may read now are the greatest of our problems," he said. "Whatever started it, the war must have been the nail on that lid."

"The books are certainly not our greatest problem.  They never have been, they've been an outgrowth."  She sighed, "But yes, the war was a final nail there.  I'm not certain it didn't start before the boys were born."

"Our home had burned down," Thorin said. "And you got married so soon after, after Thror was killed." He paused, glancing away. "I could never figure out if I actually didn't like your husband or just the timing. I didn't really ever find out."

"It's not as though he put much effort into trying to get to know you either," Dis replied, dropping her gaze.  "Most of our fights those first few years of marriage were about you, you know."

"I didn't, actually," he said, tilting his head.

"Neither of you much liked the other.  It took a couple of years before he figured out that I was not the person to come to when he wanted a sympathetic ear in that regard," his sister said.  "I loved him, very much, but he just couldn't seem to understand that there are ties that go beyond that."

"He came from a different line," Thorin said. "Which was... fine. But he never really did understand certain things."

"I always hoped he would, and I regret any rifts caused in the process of keeping peace within my home," Dis spoke softly.  "And then the world changed again."

Thorin stopped again. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when he did pass."

His sister looked him in the eye for a long moment as she considered that, "I can't say I didn't resent you for not being there.  But I understood."

He tried not to think about standing in a ruined landscape, watching his defeated people while waiting to be decommissioned and allowed to return home while sickness spread. "Still," he murmured. "I feel like it might have helped whatever distance there is between us."

She paused before reaching out to take his hand, "Maybe it would have.  You've done so much since then, though, brother.  I could never ask for better."

Offering her a smile, he nodded. "I hope that is true."

"Have you known me to say things like that without them being true?"

"Certainly not intentionally," he smiled. "Though I wonder if I could have been better. Certainly protected Fili and Kili more--"

"Hush, brother.  My sons are grown, or nearly so, and the fact that they are is due to you in a large part," Dis shook her head.  "We can't protect them from themselves."

"May I at least wish we could?" Thorin asked with a rueful smile.

Smile matching her brother's, Dis nodded, "We both may."

w-w-w

Bifur considered the carving he just finished, turning it over in his hands to make sure the workmanship was as skilled as he would like it before nodding firmly to himself. Leaving the small carving on the counter that was a relic of the days their building had been a hotel, he retreated to one side of the room, mostly in shadows to watch.

Bombur entered the foyer, pausing and blinking for a long moment at the carving, turning a bit red at it before he shook his head and crossed the room to sit next to his cousin, "I'm going to guess that's got to do with last week's dinner?"

Bifur nodded, smiling serenely as Kili clattered down the stairs, Fili following at a much more sedate pace. "Brother," Fili was saying and Kili laughed whatever it was off.

"Hey," Kili said and looked over at the counter, pausing with a frown before approaching. "Mother of _god_!" he yelped, jumping back.

"What?" Fili asked, peering over and freezing. "That's," he swallowed.

Bombur glanced at his cousin, his eyebrows rising.  He'd expected shock, and possibly a certain amount of disgust at the rather explicit carving of two men, but the brothers' reaction was not quite in line with what he'd been thinking would happen.

They blinked once at each other and then back to the carving before retreating away. "Hey, Bombur, Bifur," Fili said with a wave as they moved quickly through the lobby.

Bombur offered a wave in response, his attention shifting from them toward the stairs as he thought he heard someone descending.

Once they were past the door, Kili glanced at the door before leaning up against Fili's ear. "We haven't actually tired that position yet."

Fili shot him a quick look at shoved him gently away. "Later," he murmured. "Things to do, remember?"

"Do you think Bifur carved it?" Kili asked, shading his eyes against the winter sunlight.

"I'm, actually, trying not to think about it," Fili shook his head.

Inside the lobby, Gloin hummed his way down the stairs, notebook tucked up under one arm and his other hand fiddling with his pen.

"Hello, Gloin," Bombur called.  "What are you up to?"

"Heading to work," he said, passing by the carving entirely since his eyesight was not so good long distance. "Please make sure Gimli actually heads out. He should be leaving for school in only a few more minutes."

"I'll make sure he gets out the door," his friend assured.  "Have a good day."

Still humming, Gloin nodded at the pair and passed out the door, nodding to where Fili and Kili were still standing, waiting for Gimli before Fili walked the pair to school. They'd just decided it was best to vacate the lobby earlier than usual and waved him off.

GImli came clattering down the stairs a few minutes later, spotting the carving and gaping in that direction for a minute, "Holy hell."  He considered going over there, but glanced at the clock, realized what time it was and hurried out the door in the hope Fili and Kili were out there.

Fili and Kili both glanced over at him. "We should go," Fili said finally instead of anything else.

Gimli glanced back at the door of the building before nodding, "Yeah.  Let’s get going then."

Back inside, Bifur glanced over at Bombur, still smiling and nothing too unexpected so far.

Still moving carefully, more in case his sister came upon him than any desire to actually do so, Thorin paused at the foot of the stairs, following Bifur's gaze to the carving. He blinked once. "That must be causing quite a stir."

"There've been a couple of strong reactions to it so far," Bombur agreed.

"The craftsmanship is superb, as usual," he said, arching a brow. "Though the position is... inventive." He shook his head, looking over at Bifur. "Whatever point you're proving, please don't let Dis, or Oin, or in fact, most people see it, if you can help." He paused again. "Do I want to know who's reacted?"

Bombur glanced at Bifur before answering, "Your nephews reacted the strongest."

Thorin paused at that, frowning before shrugging it off. "Just try not to cause too much of a stir," he said, shaking his head before walking off, heading back to the office behind the stairs where he'd do the work for the gang.

It was a handful of minutes later that Dori could be heard on the stairs, talking to his youngest brother who he was going to accompany to the college on his way to work.

Walking in front of his brother, Ori held a bundle folded up, in shades of gold and brown, dark greens and grey. "I can get to campus myself," he was saying, glancing back.

"It's on my way, Ori, and with all that's been going on it doesn't seem wise for anyone to go about on their own," Dori responded, his eyes sweeping over the foyer.  He froze as he reached the bottom of the stairs and his gaze fell on the carving, his expression changing rapidly from confusion to affronted horror.

Fingers twined in the bundle he was carrying, Ori followed his brother's gaze and froze, staring at it with wide eyes, jaw working before he simply snapped it shut.

"Really," Dori huffed, looking toward where Bifur and Bombur were seated, "And where anyone could see it too."

Bifur just shrugged, making no indication one way or another if he had actually been the carver. Ori finally tore his eyes away to look at Bifur, frowning as he tried to figure out if it had been Bifur's or Bofur's, and not sure which option he’d prefer to think about.

Dori frowned disapprovingly before nudging his brother's shoulder, "We need to be going if you don't want to be late."

"Of, of course," Ori managed, still staring at the carving with more rapt attention than was strictly called for.

"Ori," his brother's whisper was sharp as he stepped past the younger man to the door, "Come along."

"Right," Ori said, holding the blanket up closer to his chest before glancing once at Bifur and Bombur before trailing after his brother.

"Well, that was interesting," Bombur remarked, glancing at his cousin. Bifur's smile had widened even more at that.

Bofur came down the stairs at that moment, starting to cross to his cousin, but stopping when he saw the carving.  His expression went completely blank as he took the three steps over to the counter.  He picked it up and took it over to Bifur, dropping it in his cousin's lap, "No."

Looking up, Bifur tilted his head to one side as if in question.

"You know, brother, I think that may be the fewest words I've heard you say in a single go since you started talking," Bombur remarked.

Bofur's look was unenthused, "Right.  Whatever you two are doing, don't."

Bifur spread his hands out, clearly asking what they could possibly be doing that would so offend Bofur.

"You're both fishing, that's what," Bofur answered.  "There's nothing to fish for."

"I think it's interesting that both you and Ori have told me that, now," Bombur returned with a smile.

Bifur just grinned, holding the carving back up and motioning at Bombur at the mention of Ori's name.

Bombur grinned in response and nodded, "Exactly."

Bofur looked between them, "Who else saw that?"

"Fili, Kili, Gimli, Thorin, Dori and Ori," Bombur listed off pleasantly enough, watching as his brother filed the names away.  Bofur paled very slightly at Ori's name. “Gloin walked right past it.”

Bifur used the sign language they'd learned as children, which he rarely resorted to due to the difficulty he had in remembering the correct order, to add that Ori finished his blanket.

That finally got a smile from Bofur, "Good for him.  I guess that means he was taking it to his teacher today then?" Bifur nodded, pleased before running a hand along the carving again.

Bofur's eyes moved to the carving again, but he shook his head, "I'm going to go take a walk.  I'll be back later."

Frowning slightly, Bifur shrugged and nodded, seeming to accept that.

Bombur looked like he was going to protest, but Bofur offered him a long look before turning and leaving.  "Well, he knew what we were doing, and maybe it'll get him thinking about Ori enough to actually say something.  You know they both rather badly messed up what they were working on a while ago.  Ori had to restart the square he was making for that blanket, and Bofur spent the better part of an hour trying to make sure he could hide the fact he'd nearly cut the paw off his carving."

Bifur nodded, having watched the two of them before and then again at dinner. He certainly had a lot more to think about many of the inhabitants of the building now.

w-w-w

In step with Fili and Kili, Gimli glanced at them, "I'd guess you guys saw the carving on the counter?"

Kili turned red and Fili hummed. "Yeah, it was placed fairly obviously after all."

"I'm going to kill Bifur, later," Kili muttered to the ground and Fili bumped their shoulders together.

Gimli rolled his shoulders, not comfortable with the carving but confused at that reaction, "Why?"

"You shouldn't leave stuff like that lying around," Kili said, kicking a stone. "After all... " he thought about it and changed tracts. "Well, there's too many people who could see it."

“That was probably what he meant to have happen," Gimli responded.

"Yeah, but, why?" Kili frowned over at him. "Why would he want people see that anyway?"

"He's probably trying to get someone's attention," Fili said, looking at the ground in front of them.

"But who?"  Gimli asked with a grimace, trying to keep his tone steady and his thoughts away from a certain blond.

"I'm actually trying not to think about that," Kili said and shook his head again.

"Maybe it wasn't meant for anyone in particular, just to get reactions?"  Gimli offered.

"I dunno," Fili said. "He usually does things pretty specifically. I just can't think of _who_."

Gimli was really glad that Bifur couldn't read his mind--he hoped--and therefore it wouldn’t be him, "Maybe it's better not to ask."

"Yeah, let's not," Kili agreed and Fili bumped his shoulder as they walked again.

"Here," he said, stopping in front of the high school. "How about no one gets into any fights today, alright?"

"We'll do our best," Gimli answered, starting for the main doors.

"The same goes for you," Kili said, swatting his brother's braids.

"What are you, a cat?" Fili groused. "I'll stay out of trouble."

Laughing, Kili didn't look like he believed him at all but shook his head and turned to follow Gimli. Gimli entered the school, grimacing at the clock, "We left when we usually do and it's still damn early."

Kili pulled a face. "We were pretty determined to move away?" he offered instead. "I mean," he just shuddered instead of saying anything, really hoping Bifur had been trying to catch someone else's attention.

Gimli nodded his agreement, his expression darkening when he caught sight of Legolas down the hall.

"Hey," Kili said, elbowing him. "How about no fights today?"

Glancing at him, the younger teen nodded, "Yeah, I'll keep it in mind."

"I'm serious," Kili said. "Your father will kill you."

"I know, I know.  He made that really clear last time."

"I'm surprised you're the one advocating for not fighting," Aragorn remarked, behind the two and Kili glared at him.

"Hell does that mean?"

Gimli turned to look at both of them, "Neither of you is one to talk."

"Hey," Kili protested. "My brother is the one to walk into fights, not me. Usually, anyway. I mean, I'll finish them but I tend not to start them."

Arching a brow, Aragorn glanced at Gimli. "Alright. But I'd think I have some room to talk."

"You and Boromir fought like demons for years," Gimli reminded.

"Except those were academic debates," Aragorn said, shaking his head slightly. "That's different from throwing yourself over tables and around on the ground."

"Except for the time he punched you in the face and left you with raccoon eyes for a week," Legolas spoke from where he'd approached silently.  He was still sporting a fading bruise on the bridge of his nose.

"So they occasionally got more heated," Aragorn shrugged. "We've figured it out since then and it's not like we regularly threw punches around."

"Still don't count as academic debates alone.  And you get no credit for that," Legolas responded primly. Aragorn gave him a sideways look and Kili just snorted.

Gimli chuckled low in his throat and Legolas' lips quirked upward, "But you worked through your differences, mostly."

"Now if only you could follow," Aragorn said, sighing as he looked over at his two friends. Often times he would sit in class with them on either side, arguing heatedly over the space in front of him.

"Everyone's so worried about us fighting.  One would think you have nothing better to do with your time," Legolas drawled.

"Sure, what else would we be doing?" Kili smirked over at him. "I mean, who knows how much time your father spends planning on screwing us over?"

Legolas tensed, "Not as much as you all seem to assume."

Glancing over, Kili arched his brows. "Really?" he drawled. "'Cause he always seems to do such a good job of it, you know? Remind me again what's got you people's panties into such a twist?"

"Us people?"  Legolas' eyes narrowed, "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, you and your father. The professor at least doesn't seem quite so bad, but seriously, what bee stung your bonnet anyway?" Kili asked, tiling his head.

"You're about to start a fight yourself," Aragorn remarked, glancing over.

"The 'bee' that stung my bonnet is the fact that I go home every damn day and get in fights with my father because of narrow-mindedness and then I come to school and get in fights with you lot for the same reason in reverse," Legolas snapped.  "Now if you'll excuse me I have a class to be in."

"Oi," Kili said after a moment. "How about this. I'll stop being narrow minded, you stop being an ass, and no more jumping over tables and we can work on it?"

Legolas crossed his arms and eyed him, his gaze darting to Gimli, "And you?"

"Why would I make any deals?"  the shorter man responded.

A muscle twitched in the blond's jaw and he looked back to Kili, "I'll work on it."

"Good," Kili said with a beaming smile.

Legolas offered the three of the others a nod and turned on his heel, heading for his class.

Aragorn glanced over at Kili. "I can't tell if that was badly handled or well."

"Oh, stuff your arrogance," Kili rolled his eyes.

"If you two end up in a fight I won't do a thing about it," Gimli muttered.

"We're not about to fight," Aragorn protested.

"If we were going to, it would have been when he found out his girlfriend spent an entire evening flirting with me," Kili said with a shrug and Aragorn stopped.

"What?"

Gimli coughed at that, "Well, that looks like he didn't know that."

"Yeah, I don't know," Kili looked him over. "But she seemed intent on dancing. You might want to look into that."

Aragorn blinked once at him. "I'll be sure to."

Kili opened his mouth, wanting to say something snarly about how she probably was drawn to someone who at least acknowledged his heritage instead of running from where he came from as fast as he could, except Fili's disappointed face came to mind and he snapped his mouth shut. "Yeah, well, good luck with that," he said, shouldering his bag higher and nodding to Gimli.

Gimli nodded before looking at Aragorn, "You alright there?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Aragorn asked, looking down.

His friend shrugged, "Beyond being told that your girlfriend was flirting with someone else?"

"It was a bad week," he remarked mildly enough, glancing over.

Gimli didn't look impressed, but he nodded, "If you say so."

Offering him a fleeting smile, Aragorn inclined his head. "It's not so bad as that. You, however, seem flustered this morning."

"Flustered?  Me?  I don't get flustered.  I leave that to Legolas," Gimli replied, sounding prim.

Quirking a brow Aragorn suppressed his smile. "Scattered then?"

"Scattered I'll accept.  Nothing really there, just some carving someone left on the counter in the lobby at home."

"What sort of carving could that possibly be?" Aragorn laughed.

Gimli eyed him before shrugging, "A pornographic one.  My bet's that the entire place will be in an uproar if someone doesn't move it."

Choking slightly on air, Aragorn nodded. "Well, hopefully someone will."

Smirking a bit at that, Gimli shrugged, "Oh it'll be moved.  Better head for class now though."

"Try not to be too scattered," Aragon said, smiling still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Fili and Kili trade off being morons in the same conversation. 
> 
> VS also has a lot of feelings about the books Thorin reads in this verse: basically it's a mix of WWI literature that's know for being vulgar, particularly by the standards of then but even today, and probably some smut books thrown in there because it's been a very long time since he's had a lover. In other words: Not books his nephews should be near according to their mother.


	8. Anything You Wish

Bofur shook his head at Nori, they were on their way back from a late meeting with one of their customers, "I'm still confused by what you're asking."

"I'm just asking about what you're doing with my brother," Nori said. "Or not doing, as the case may be."

"Nothing.  Should there be something?" Bofur asked, eying his friend sideways.

"Well, I don't rightly know," Nori shrugged, pulling the knit scarf he wore closer around his throat and blowing on his fingers as they walked. "It's getting damned cold, isn't it?"

"That's what happens when winter rolls around," Bofur answered, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets.  "You're asking questions so you must think something's going on, though I'm telling you there isn't."

"Well, how could I not?" Nori asked, having laughed himself silly at Bifur's carving before he started to think about it. "I mean, I'm not saying I'm the best at noticing what's going on in my brother's life, as Dori will remind you til he's blue in the face. But he stares at you, and I'm not even talking about that blanket he made, and you were staring at him during dinner and then your cousin who just about never talks decided to make one hell of a statement and it must've been directed at someone."

"Well when you put it like that..."  Bofur shook his head, "I can see how you came to that idea, but there's nothing going on there."

Nori hummed, blowing on his fingers again. "Nothing at all?"

"My family fishes, you dig.  Neither of you are going to find anything," Bofur responded as they rounded a corner and came face to face with a small group of Azog's men.

"Fuck," Nori managed, the other gangsters looking as startled as them for a moment before everyone reached for their guns, Nori managing to toss a knife at one of their throats before they could get the safety off their gun.

Bofur had his gun out quickly, firing off a shot and catching a second man in the chest.  Backing up quickly, he grabbed Nori's arm and yanked his friend back around the corner with him as Azog's men started firing.  "Damn it, what are they doing all the way up here?"

"Being pains in our asses," Nori offered, backing up as he pulled his gun out of his coat. "It's a small group at least."

"Which means fewer chances of getting hit, but we got lucky with those first two," Bofur muttered, looking for their best route away from there and spotting an alley that he knew would be a quick shortcut out.  "Half a block up on the left, we should be able to lose them in the backstreets if we can make it there."

"Good," Nori said, and paused, almost peering around the corner and deciding flight was their better choice anyway. Turning on his heel he took off down the street.

Bofur was right on his heels, glancing back as they reached the alley to see Azog's men round the corner, firing at them as he rattled off their next directions to Nori, "Right at the end of the alley, left at the next chance."

"Think they'll follow us far?" he asked, swinging around the corner so fast he almost stumbled before continuing.

"We'd better hope not, I can only weave us through so many side streets before we risk looping back around and accidentally running into them," Bofur managed, skidding around the corner and knocking over a trash bin in the hopes that it would slow Azog's men slightly.

As they reached the third turn and ducked down another alley, Azog's men still firing whenever they caught sight of them, Bofur swore fiercely when a bullet found it's mark in his shoulder.  He stumbled, off-balanced by that before regaining his footing and pressing onward, "Left at the end, and then right into the first building--it's abandoned and the door should be ajar."

Nori didn't even notice until they got into the building and he slammed the door after Bofur. "I'm assuming there's another ex--Jesus Christ! Bofur!"

Bofur pressed his hand against his shoulder, gritting his teeth, "It'll keep til we get back."  He nodded toward a door at the other end of the building, "That'll get us out on the next block.  With any luck they'll keep going."

"Good," Nori said, eying his shoulder again. "We'll have to wake Oin up."

"Then we'll do that.  Let's get moving before I lose too much blood," Bofur replied, starting toward the other exit. Nori paused, trailing after him this time instead of taking the forward position, covering their back as much as he could.

It was nearly a half hour of circuitous routes back, but they finally entered the apartment building, Bofur a good deal more pale and not entirely steady by the time they made it through the door. Nori caught him under the shoulder, looking around and finding Bifur and Ori in their usual corner, waiting for them to come home. "Ori," he said, the project he was working on clattering out of his hands. "Get Oin, would you?"

Bofur's gaze drifted in that direction before he looked toward the stairs, "Should get upstairs."  He was trying to figure out if he actually thought he had the strength to get up to his apartment.

Bifur approached from the other side, supporting him and motioning up the stairs. "We really should get a lift," Nori groused. "I hear they're almost practical now."

"A metal death trap in a place like this though," Bofur murmured.  "I think getting one put in here would be more trouble than help," he leaned heavily on his friend and his cousin as they managed to get him up the two flights to his rooms.

Moments after Nori dumped him onto the bed, Ori shoved the door open for Oin. "There, you'll be right as rain now," Nori said, patting his uninjured shoulder.

Bofur offered him a rueful grin, carefully levering himself up enough to work at getting his jacket, shirt and undershirt off so that Oin could have access to the wound.  The doctor shook his head and moved over to help so that Bofur wouldn't move his arm too much.

Remaining by the door, Ori watched, poised to run for anything anyone needed or offer any help though he glanced over at Nori as he headed for the door. "Are you alright?" he asked and Nori patted his shoulder, never really sure how to treat his younger brother.

"Perfectly," he said, and watched as Ori looked back at Bofur. Apparently, whatever Bofur had been telling him didn't matter much, or Bofur was just blind. Nori would figure it out in the morning. Slipping out of the room he went to find Thorin to make a report of the meeting and the attack.

Oin kept up a steady stream of muted conversation about practically nothing to keep Bofur distracted while he worked to extract the bullet.  Glancing toward Ori, Bofur managed a faint smile that turned into a grimace as Oin finally located the bullet and got hold of it.  Closing his eyes, Bofur drew a deep breath as it was removed and the wound was cleaned.

Stitching up the wound, Oin stepped back, "You'll be in pain for a good long while, that went deep and it was close to the socket."  He set a bottle of pain pills down on the bedside table, "One of these every four hours.  You'll need a sling or it may not heal right.  And for god's sake, give yourself at least a day before you try to get up. Don't need you passing out on us."

Bofur looked up at him, "And the diagnosis further out?"

"You'll have full use of the arm if you go carefully and keep it in a sling and unused until I say otherwise."

Bifur, who'd folded himself into a corner nodded, content with that information and Ori let out a long breath.

“No guess to how long that'll be?" Bofur asked, and earned himself a frown from Oin for his trouble.

"Not yet.  The only thing you get to worry about is getting rest.  Sleep, and take it easy."

Ori glanced over at Oin, wanting to ask him if he could do anything before shaking his head slightly at himself and leaning further back.

Oin straightened from where he was putting his things back in his bag.  He glanced at Ori and Bifur, "Make sure he rests, doesn't strain himself, and doesn't leave that bed until at least tomorrow."

Ori's eyes snapped over and he nodded. "A-alright. I will."

Oin nodded slightly, slipping out of the room.  The main door was heard closing behind him a moment later.

Blinking at the door, Ori glanced back to Bofur. "You'll sleep, right?" he offered.

Bofur shrugged his good shoulder, "Of course I'll sleep.  Why wouldn't I?"  That was entirely a lie and he knew it.  He hadn't had a restful night’s sleep in a bed for years.

“Becuase last time you said you only slept on the couch, but I'm hoping you're not going to be that stupid," Ori replied.

Bofur offered him a wide-eyed look of innocence, "I was told I couldn't leave the bed."

"Are you going to actually do so?" Ori asked. "I mean, follow instructions?"

"I don't rightly know.  Won't know for a few hours yet."

Ori sighed. "The smart answer would have been of course you're going to follow instructions."

"Wouldn't have been honest though," Bofur responded.  "It's not as bad as all that, really."

Narrowing his eyes, Ori watched him for a moment before shaking his head. "Just, don't move," he muttered and turned, slipping out of the room and closing the door softly behind him.

Bofur leaned back against his pillows, glancing at his cousin, "Are you going to manage to lecture me too?"  Lecture might have been the wrong word, but Bifur could say more with a look or a hand motion than most could say with a dozen sentences.

Bifur gave him a level, angry look in reply.

He sighed, "Fine.  I'll stay put.  You know I won't be able to sleep though."

Sighing, Bifur shook his head. Reaching out, he patted Bofur's head and turned to leave himself.

Bofur smiled wearily, "Good night, Bifur.  Take care." Waving at him, Bifur paused by the door, looking his cousin over. Finally, he nodded once more before slipping out.

Lying back, Bofur let his eyes close in the hope that he might manage to actually sleep.  His shoulder hurt like hell, but he hated pills and was having difficulty convincing himself to take the first dose of pain killers.

He was left alone for several minutes before the door pushed open again and Ori cluttered in with several things bundled up in his arms. He glanced at the painkillers with a small frown. "Have you taken those yet?" he asked and looked around. "Do you have the water for them?"

Opening his eyes to look at the other, Bofur shook his head, "No to both questions."

Dropping the blanket, book, and knitting project on the end of Bofur's bed, Ori wandered out into his kitchen, hunting around the cupboards for a glass and murmuring something under his breath.

Bofur used his good arm to lever himself into a sitting position against his headboard, looking at the pile in confusion, but not paying it too much mind.

Returning moments later, Ori handed him the glass of water and reached for the pain pills as well. "Here."

Bofur took the glass with murmured thanks, but eyed the pills for a long moment.  He drew a deep breath and finally took the painkiller, setting the glass aside. "Do you not like pills?" Ori asked, retreating to the end of the bed and setting the book and knitting project on a chair near the bed before unfolding the blanket and throwing it over Bofur.

"Not really, no," Bofur answered, blinking at the crocheted blanket and running a hand over it.  "Is this...is this the project then?"

"Yes," Ori said, tugging it so it laid straight. "It's cold tonight, and your bed doesn't look that warm."

"Most of my blankets are in the other room," he admitted.  "I don't often come in here."

"Well, you're going to be stuck here for a while," Ori said after a moment. "I hope you enjoy it."

Bofur offered him a long look, "Oin said I could move about tomorrow, didn't he?"

"Could, perhaps, but tonight you need to rest and you need not to move." Ori finally straightened from where he'd been arranging the blanket and nodded to himself, pleased enough by it.

"It's a lovely blanket," Bofur offered as a change of subject.

Looking from the blanket slowly to Bofur's face, Ori nodded slowly. "It turned out well," he managed.

"Did your teacher like it?"

"Yes," he said with a small nod. "The entire class seemed to go well. And I can now crochet with the right sized holes."

Bofur smiled at that, "Congratulations."

"Thank you," Ori said, shifting from foot to foot before startling as he remembered. "Oh. I can make you tea if you like. To help you sleep."

"If you think it'll help," Bofur rolled his good shoulder.  "Not sure much is going to help with that though."

"What's your problem with your bed though?" Ori said, tilting his head. "I mean, you sorta said but it..."

Bofur tugged on his right braid, considering his answer, "There's too much space around it.  The couch has a wall, or at least the back of it, on one side and the arms on two others."

"You could push your bed against the wall," Ori remarked, "Get a bit more closed off."

"Id' have to get a smaller one too," Bofur responded.  "It's empty and all.  Too much space in general."

"Well then you should fill it up with something," Ori said and stopped, flushing. "I mean, a smaller bed and more furniture in the room, or, or pillows, or..."

Bofur's eyes widened at that, and he looked quickly away from Ori, "Or something.  Yeah.  I'll have to see about that when I'm healed.  Though at that point I might as well go sleep on the couch again."

Rather than putting his foot further into his mouth, Ori turned and clattered into the kitchen to make tea. Bofur watched him go and sighed heavily.  This was not going well at all and having Ori in his space, in his _bedroom_ , was taxing his ability to keep whatever was going on in his head about the other as "nothing".

A short while later, having rattled through cupboards and considered banging his head against some of them, Ori returned with a cup of tea, setting it beside Bofur on the table and pulling the chair closer to the head of the bed and settling down for all the world like he was going to just watch to make sure the other stayed in bed.

Bofur reached for the tea, taking a drink of it as he watched Ori, "You planning to sit there all night?"

 He shifted slightly. "Yes. I was certainly considering it."

"You don't have to, you know," the older man offered quietly.

"But you don't like sleeping here," Ori said. "And you have to." He paused before holding up the book he brought. "I can read if you like?"

Bofur looked at the book for a moment, "What is it?"

Ori tried not to flush. "Some stories about King Arthur."

Offering him a slight smile, Bofur nodded, "I'd like that."

Returning the smile with some hesitation, Ori opened the book to where he'd last stopped reading it and settled further back in the chair before starting to read. Bofur found himself completely enraptured, listening to Ori read.  The stories were fascinating, but the cadence with which the other spoke was what held his attention far more.

Several stories in Ori cleared his throat and rose. "At this rate I'm going to need tea," he murmured, rubbing his eyes and swallowing. "Would you like anything?"

Shaking himself out of his reverie, Bofur blinked at the other for a moment, "Hm?  Oh, no I think I'm fine, thank you."

Ori smiled faintly. "Enjoying the stories then?"

"I am at that," Bofur replied with a smile, more than willing to let Ori think that was what he was focused on.

Offering him a smile, Ori retreated to make the tea before settling back into the chair. Rubbing his eyes again he picked up the book. "Dori used to read to me when I was little," he said, adjusting in the chair before flipping to where he'd left Lancelot.

"It's been a long time since someone's read to me," Bofur admitted.  He paused, considering the other, "Are you sure you're comfortable in that chair?"

"It's not a bad chair," Ori shrugged. "How are you doing?"

"Well, my shoulder still hurts like hell, but I'm doing alright.  You're not planning to stay up all night, are you?"

Ori shrugged slightly. "I hadn't really considered it one way or the other."

Bofur tilted his head on one side, "Did you have a goal with the reading and the tea?"

"What?" Ori frowned at him. "Goal?"

"As in, why are you doing it?"  Bofur tried again.

"Oh," Ori said and shrugged. "Because I wanted to make you feel better. You didn't really look thrilled with being shot or put on bed rest and... tea and blankets and being read to, it's what, sometimes, people would do for me to make me feel better and I just..."

"You..." Bofur stared at him for a long moment, "You did all this because I didn't look happy with being ordered onto bed rest?"

Ori shrugged. "Sorta?"

That earned a crooked grin, "You are something else."

Ori dropped his eyes. "No, I just... Bombur has his wife and children when he gets hurt, and I'm not saying he wouldn't come and help but... and Bifur... loves in his own way. But, when you get hurt or are lonely or just aren't doing well, there's not so many people you can turn to is there? I mean, everyone here is related and then some and you... it's you, your brother and his family and your cousin. It must be... different."

"I wasn't saying it like it was a bad thing," Bofur spoke softly.  "I...I guess I've just gotten used to dealing with these things on my own and it's nice to have someone who's here."

Ori nodded, smiling faintly at him. "I just wanted to help."

"Thank you.  You, you really don't have to stay here all night though," not that he didn't want him to, he just didn’t want to be a bother.

"If you want me to leave, I can," Ori said. "But I don't mind. I've stayed up longer for other things, and besides, you really should be sleeping."

"You do understand that I probably won't manage to sleep tonight, right?"  Bofur asked after a moment.

"Why not?" Ori asked.

He had several answers to that question, but went back to the one he'd given repeatedly before, "It's the bed."

"I could get you more pillows," Ori offered after a moment.

Bofur hesitated for a long moment, "I don't think that's...."  He shook his head, "I--"

Ori paused, waiting for him to finish. "Yeah?" he asked. "Whatever I can do, honestly."

"It's going to seem like a...that is you can say no if you want.  Do you mind actually sitting in the bed, or on top of the covers, or something , rather than over there?"  He tugged at his right braid again, waiting for Ori to say no and leave.

For a moment it looked like Ori was reminding himself what air was before he nodded, scooting over onto the bed. "If you like."

Bofur carefully moved over, giving Ori more room, "Thank you."

"Do you want me to continue reading?" Ori asked.

"Please.  I'm enjoying the stories," Bofur replied, sliding down a bit lower in the bed. Ori nodded, opening the book again and crossing his legs at the ankle.

Bofur focused on the rise and fall of Ori's voice, his other senses picking up the younger man's proximity and he finally relaxed and allowed his eyes to slip closed. Glancing over, Ori hesitated, unsure if he should keep reading or not. "It's a good story," Bofur murmured drowsily, not quite asleep but starting to drift.

Ori laughed, the sound soft. "Alright," he said, and set about to finish the chapter. Making a quiet, contented sound at that, Bofur curled a bit further down in the blankets.  He was asleep before Ori reached the mid mark of the chapter.

Ori finished and looked down with a small smile, continuing to read to himself for a while before he dozed off with the book over his chest without really meaning to.

w-w-w

Bofur woke slowly the next morning to three realizations.  The first was that there was a stabbing pain radiating from his left shoulder, the second that he was not actually asleep on the couch--based on the feel of the mattress beneath him he was probably in his bed--and the third was that there was someone asleep with him.  He opened his eyes slowly in confusion and came suddenly wide awake when he realized that Ori was asleep curled against his side with his head on Bofur's chest.  He tensed, trying to sort out if there was a possible way to extricate himself without either using his left arm or waking Ori.  The longer he lay there considering, the less likely it appeared.

Murmuring something in his sleep, Ori shifted a bit closer, having long since kicked the book off the bed by accident. Drawing a deep breath and letting his head fall back against the pillows again when he realized that all that accomplished was causing him to inhale Ori's scent, Bofur shifted very slightly and tried to ease out from under the smaller man.

Startling awake when he moved, Ori blinked sleepy eyes up at the other. Once he realized where he was he jumped, scrambling backward.

Bofur managed not to react to that response beyond pulling himself back and carefully sitting up.  The retreat stung a bit, even if he'd been attempting the same thing himself.  He offered a hesitant smile, "Morning."

"I'm sorry," Ori said, eyes panicked. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--"

Shaking his head, Bofur held up a hand to slow Ori's words, "Hush.  There--there's no harm done."  He hesitated, "Is there?"

"No," Ori said, a little too quickly. "No, there wasn't. I just... hadn't meant to..."

"Oh, I, I understand," Bofur murmured, watching the other carefully before glancing away and reaching for his pain pills. "You, you should probably head home.  Your brother'll be worried."

"Let me get you more water," Ori said, springing from the bed.

Bofur held out a hand to stop him, "You really don't need to bother yourself.  You've...you've done more than enough."

Looking down at that hand, Ori let out a careful breath before looking back up. "I'll just get you the water," he said, drifting backward.

Lowering his hand and dropping his gaze back to the blanket Ori had made, Bofur nodded, "Alright, if you're sure it's no bother."

"You really think a something is going to be a bother at this point?" Ori asked with a wry smile before moving to the kitchen, carefully reminding himself to breath before stepping back inside with water. "Can I get you anything else for today?" he asked.

Bofur tugged on his right braid, curling the end of it around his fingers as he did so.  Not quite meeting Ori's eyes he shook his head, "No, thank you."  He offered a bit of a smile, "You've done a lot already.  Thank you, Ori."

"You're welcome," Ori said, pausing before he readjusted the blanket and gathered up the other things he'd brought down.

Hesitating for a moment, Bofur managed to swallow one of the pills and set the water and pill bottle aside.  He paused, "Aren't you taking the blanket?"

"I made it for you anyway," Ori said, and beat a hasty retreat for the door.

Bofur's eyes widened at that and he managed to call a "Thank you" just before the main door to his apartment closed.  He considered the blanket in a new light, running his hand over it again, unsure what to do with that bit of information.

Once outside the apartment, Ori really looked like he wanted to bang his head against the wall before shaking his head and following the steps up to where he shared an apartment with Dori, pushing the door open and right into a fight.

Dori was stalking about the room in a state of high ire, whirling on Nori from time to time.  His eyes were narrowed as he snapped, "You keep saying he's fine, but I've not seen him all night and all I've got is your word.  Not how you know or a way to verify it."

"I said he was helping Bofur," Nori said, rubbing a hand over his eyes before he went back to finishing braiding the three braids he wore under his chin. "If you really want to know, you can stomp down there yourself--No, see? There he is. He's perfectly fine."

Dori turned at that, fixing Ori with a long look, "There you are.  Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Morning?" Ori offered, having not looked at a clock yet.

"Morning?  Well, yes I suppose it is.  It's half-ten, Ori," Dori responded, his tone rising slightly at the end.

"Oh," Ori managed, eyes widening slightly. It had been a very long time since he'd slept that late, used to Dori's early morning bird habits.

"'Oh'?  Is that all you have to say?  It's been more than twelve hours since I last heard from you."

"I was just downstairs," Ori said, dropping his book and knitting on the counter.

"You could have checked at any time," Nori huffed and Ori almost nodded before his face paled. Considering how he'd ended up sleeping, he really didn't want to think about what Dori would have done.

Dori was too busy offering Nori a scathing look to catch Ori's expression, but he frowned, "Downstairs at Bofur's, correct?"

"Yeah," Ori nodded. "He was injured and lonely."

"Lonely?" Nori asked, wrinkling his nose.

"Bofur has rather a large number of relatives who I'm sure are more than capable of taking care of him without you needing to volunteer your time," Dori responded, agreeing with Nori's question although he was unwilling to admit it in as many words.

Ori crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not sure Bifur would have the patience," he said. "And Bombur's family is their own small galaxy."

Dori considered his youngest brother for a long moment, "Is that where all of my tea is disappearing to?"

"What?" Ori asked. "No, I mean, some of it," he finished, trying to hold his head up high and wanting to bury his chin in his chest instead.

Dori's brows rose at that, "You've been...."  He rocked back on his heels, appraising his brother with a calculating look in his eye, "I see."

"What?" Ori asked, recognizing that look. "See what? There's nothing to see."

"Except for the tea.  And a blanket that seems to have disappeared.  And is that King Arthur?"  Dori's eyes went to the book.

"I like King Arthur," Ori said with a frown, bordering on defensive. "What's that matter?"

Dori shook his head, "Maybe it doesn't."

"Please don't say that when I know you don't mean it," Ori sighed and Nori looked between his two brothers with a slight frown.

Dori looked taken aback at that for a moment before sighing, "I worry about you, Ori.  That's all. You do like King Arthur, it's a book you've always liked, and you chose that one to what, read to him all night?"

There was a beat before Ori replied. "Only an hour or so. He fell asleep after that. Besides, the stories seem like the type to appeal to anyone."

"And you stayed after he fell asleep?" Dori pressed.

Ori shrugged, not really sure how to explain that. "I wanted to make sure he didn't need anything else," he managed, Nori just frowning more and more at him as he finished his hair.

Pursing his lips, Dori considered that and finally nodded, accepting what he knew wasn't the whole truth, "He's doing well enough this morning, then, I assume?"

"Yes," Ori said softly.

"I'm glad to hear it," Dori responded mutedly.  "Just let me know if you plan to do this again, please."

Opening his mouth to say he doubted it would happen again, Ori just nodded. "I will," he said, glancing at Nori. "Can I take a shower now?" he asked, voice a bit smaller.

Dori blinked at him and nodded, the line of his shoulders relaxing, "Of course."

Offering him a tiny smile, Ori all but scampered off, Nori watching him with an arched brow before turning back to his elder brother. "You're not going to start yelling again are you?"

He grimaced, "No.  I'm yelled out."

"Good," Nori said. "Drink some of your damned tea then. It's supposed to make you more relaxed, innit?"

"Do you have something further to add?" Dori eyed him, but started toward the kitchen.

"I couldn't imagine what that would be if there was," Nori replied.

"It's always something," Dori muttered, shaking his head.

"Aye," Nori laughed. "But this morning is probably not the time for just something." Grimacing, Dori waved a hand in his brother's direction, setting to work on tea for himself and Ori.

w-w-w

Thranduil considered the building in front of them with complete distaste. "I'm not sure bringing this man to any justice is worth stepping in there," he complained, lifting his hat to better smooth back his pale blond hair before replacing it. "That man is a crude cretin."

Even with the note that Fili had charmed off Ori, and enough information to at least make several arrests, Thranduil found himself shaking off a shiver of distaste.

Bard scowled at the building, pulling his hat down further, "We don't have much choice, after all.  Might as well get our hands a little dirty while we do so."

"Can we designate you as the one getting your hands dirty?" Thranduil whined. "I can just stand there and glower?"

"You don't have to touch anything," Bard assured.

"Good," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Then please, let us get this over with."

Bard offered a low bow, "After you, officer."

Muttering something that sounded unattractive under his breath, Thranduil stepped forward, rapping on the door. It opened moments later, a minion poking their head out. "What?" they growled, a scar along one side of their face and an old hat smashed over their head.

"Police," Thranduil said, arching a careful brow. "We have a warrant and want to see Azog."

There was clattering heard inside, as the room behind the door was quickly vacated of people who did not want to be the one responsible for telling the boss that the police were at the door.  Bard shook his head slightly, looking at the minion, "So if you could let us in, there?"

Scowling, the man at the door stepped back and shrank away. Pushing the door open a bit further, Bard stepped inside fully on alert.

"This is worse inside," Thranduil said in despair, lumps of fabric in corners, pieces of weapons laying around, including something that looked like a rusty saw turned into a sword blade.

"Quit complaining.  We come in, we do our job and we leave," Bard replied, grimacing as he stepped around a board with rusty nails driven through it to form a rather vicious looking club.

Shaking his head, Thranduil looked up as a tall albino man stepped down the stairs, his shirt ratty underneath the vest he wore, cigarette in one hand. "Can I help you?" he asked in a gravelly voice, small eyes watching them.

"Azog?" Thranduil asked, clearing his throat.

"Yes," he replied. "And what can I do for the police today?"

Bard considered the man before speaking, "We have some questions for you about some reports we've been receiving."  His gaze drifted to a man who came down the stairs behind Azog.  He was nearly as tall as the gang-lord, broad shouldered and his hair was a tangled mess.  His clothing was old and stained and his skin pale like his father's.  He stood silently behind Azog's left shoulder, visible in the leader's periphery.

Thranduil swallowed hard at that, making sure he could reach his gun if needed. "There's been some accusations about you attacking some of the Ereborians."

Azog's smile was cruel, showing off his teeth. "Did they really report such a thing?"

"Yes," Thranduil said.

Holding his ground, even as he wanted to take a step back to give himself more space should Azog or his son try anything, Bard spoke, "So of course you understand why we have to be asking questions and all."

"You think they're telling the truth?" Bolg asked, his voice deep and grating and his expression a sneer.

Thranduil tried not to twitch. "Well that's just what we have to find out now, isn't it?"

"Even though you know they'd do anything to get us in trouble," Bolg's voice deepened toward a growl.

"And are you saying you wouldn't do exactly the same?" Thranduil asked, tilting his chin back, not used to others being taller than his whip thin frame.

Azog smiled again. "Please," he said, voice grinding and it put Thranduil's teeth on edge. "Ignore him. You should know what sons say after all.” He paused, watching Thranduil’s face for a moment before grinning. “You have a son yourself, do you not? He must be so handsome, much like yourself. You must be so proud.”

Thranduil’s mouth twitched. “Quite,” he managed, not quite a snarl.

“It would be a shame if he ever said something that could get him into trouble,” Azog continued, threat implicit in his voice. “Or if he ever stepped into a dangerous situation.”

"Are you able to account for all of your men's whereabouts?" Bard cut in.  "For say, the last two weeks?"

Azog's attention shifted to him and away from the frozen anger of Thranduil. "Of course not," he huffed. "You think me a slave driver?"

"If you don't mind," Thranduil grit past clenched teeth. "Will you come down to the station with us for questioning?" He glanced at the son behind his father's shoulder. "You too," he added.

Bolg grimaced, the expression more of a snarl, but he glanced at his father to find an answer to that question. Spreading his arms, Azog laughed. "Of course. Anything you wish."

Bard nodded once, briskly, "Good.  It shouldn't take long, if you two will come with us?"

Grinning again, Azog just nodded, whistling a sharp high note that echoed around the building before stepping after the officers.

w-w-w

Faramir entered Gandalf's that evening.  It was the first night he'd been able to arrive in over a week and he was dreading the work that lay before him because of that.  He glanced around before heading back to the kitchen to try to track down the restaurant owner for the ledgers.

Except, as it was a Friday, Gandalf stood in the doorway to the actual restaurant, watching to make sure there would be no disasters. He turned as Faramir finally approached. "Ah, there you are m'boy, I was wondering if you'd gotten lost in another country."

"No, but I had papers and exams, oh and Boromir had dinner with Father earlier this week." He shook his head, "Do you have your books for me?"

"Books," Gandalf said and paused before snapping his fingers. "Yes, of course. They should be in their usual place."

Faramir paused at that, but nodded and slipped into the back to where he knew the books were kept.  Opening them to skim over the figures on the way back out he paused next to Gandalf again, an expression that slipped toward horror graced his face.  "What did you do to them?"

"Hm?" Gandalf hummed, looking away from where Ori had his head ducked down at Nori and Dori bickered over him. "Oh, I think I touched them. Accidently, of course."

"Of course," Faramir murmured, gaze rising from the dismal display of accounting to the party of thirteen.  "I think I'm establishing a new rule for you."

"Not to touch my own books?" Gandalf offered.

"Not to touch your books.  Instead I want you to keep the receipts for all of your transactions and I will handle them for you.  After all, it's what you pay me for."

"Yes," Gandalf nodded. "That is usually what I pay you for. By the by, how did your brother's dinner go with your father?"

Faramir looked down at the ledger in his hands, as though trying to decipher some of the numbers as he answered, "As well as they always do, I suppose."

"Which means there was yelling, and your father trying to guilt him into coming home and a variety of different tactics to achieve such a goal?" Gandalf offered, watching him closely.

The youth nodded, just once, the motion barely perceptible, "Sounds about right.  And then Boromir came home and stormed about for a few hours and snarled about Father for the next three days."

"Your father," Gandalf started and tried not to let his personal feelings cloud his next statement. "Has a very special way of looking at the world. You should not take it so personally."

"How?" The single word was quiet, resigned to the idea of never understanding and of never fully releasing the hold his father had on him.

"With time, perhaps," Gandalf said as something like a roar went up from the Ereborian table.

Faramir startled slightly at that, looking in that direction, "What on earth..?"

"Oh, that's perfectly normal," Gandalf said mildly. "Bilbo finally brought them the knives."

"The knives.  I don't think I want to know," he murmured.

Bilbo paused on his way past them back to the kitchen and offered a smile, "I've taken to confiscating the knives from that table until dinner actually begins--I find it means they stay sharper for longer."

"If you turn your gaze that way," Gandalf pointed where Gloin was going at Bofur, Ori watching. "You'll see why."

Looking in the direction indicated, Faramir's brows rose and he felt a bit of a smile finally reach his expression, "And suddenly I understand.  Who's the poor sap who gets to sharpen those?"

"Whoever has the least amount of work at a given time," Bilbo answered, heading back out with a water pitcher.

"Which means never me," Gandalf said, pulling out his pipe and lighting it as he watched.

"You're the boss, I'm pretty sure part of that includes delegation."

"See, m'boy, you'll go far one day for understanding that," Gandalf laughed.

Faramir's smile was faint at that and he rolled his shoulder, "I have to get there first for that to do me any good."

"Which is not something I ever doubted," Gandalf said, tilting a glance downward.

"One of the few then," he answered, gaze dropping to the numbers again.  Numbers he could handle.  Even ones that were as chaotic as the ones in Gandalf's ledger.

Gandalf patted his shoulder and suppressed both a sigh and a curse in Denathor's direction. "I've always had it," he said. "Now, are those numbers savable or should we throw it out and try again?"

Faramir cleared his throat, finding solid footing in that question, if not the touch, "Well, that depends.  Do you have the receipts so we can try again?"

Gandalf paused a long moment. "Oh," he said. "That's what I forgot to do."

Gaping at the older man, Faramir tried to get his brain to process that, "You...you forgot to keep the receipts?"

"Well, not all of them," Gandalf offered. "Maybe forty percent."

"So we have sixty percent of the receipts.  Well, that, that's not as bad as it could be.  I think with that, I can start to repair the damage done.  Possibly make the numbers make more sense."

Gandalf nodded. "Remember, they only have to make enough sense to pass a little inspection."

"Someday I'm going to get a job where the books have to be perfect and I'm not going to have any idea what to do with it," the young man murmured, shaking his head.

"Oh most likely," Gandalf laughed. "But not this night."

Faramir finally smiled again, "Alright, so I'll get those receipts and take the books home.  I'll have them for you by Monday."

"Good," Gandalf nodded. "And you're certain you're otherwise fine?"

"As fine as I ever am, Gandalf.  I think the exams went well, and I feel confident about the paper for my English class for once, so all in all yes I'm doing fine," Faramir nodded, looking toward the table of thirteen again and mentally thanking his lucky stars he didn't work on Friday nights.

Almost opening his mouth to say being fine meant more than simply doing well on tasks, Gandalf just nodded instead. "Good."

"Anything else I can do for you tonight?" The young man glanced up again.

"Smile, perhaps," Gandalf murmured. "Otherwise, I believe there is nothing for business."

Faramir's brows rose slightly at that, the corners of his lips barely curling upward, "I'll see what I can do about that.  Take care, Gandalf."

"And yourself," Gandalf smiled at him

Smile solidifying very slightly, Faramir nodded, ducked into the back to locate the receipts in all the places he'd learned that they were squirreled away.  He reemerged several minutes later and paused on his way to the door, changing direction and crossing to the table of thirteen, it had been far too long since he'd seen Ori.

"Faramir," Ori said happily when he saw him, bouncing out of his seat to turn, Nori giving the new comer a suspicious look.

The smile that Faramir offered was genuine, "Ori, it's good to see you.  It's been strange not seeing you around school, but I guess that's what happens when you graduate."  He glanced toward the table, "How have you been?"

Ori's face shuttered slightly but he continued to smile. "Well enough, graduated, so there's something there. Though, it is rather odd. I've missed seeing you around."

"I've been missing you too.  What have you been up to?" Faramir asked.

"School, again," Ori said, smile wry. "Though, it's mostly for the best," he added. "And there's plenty of art projects to do."

"And those are going alright?"

"As well as can be," Ori said, carefully not looking at Bofur who still had his blanket in his apartment. "Some projects go better than others."

"Whatever happened to that blanket you made?" Nori asked, glancing up. "It was rather lovely."

Bofur carefully turned his attention to his food at that question.  "A blanket?"  Faramir asked, "Was that one that went well at least?"

"Very," Ori agreed, carefully not answering his brother on where it had gone.

"I'm glad to hear it," he smiled again.

"And yourself?" Ori asked. "How's the high school been since I left?"  From down the table, Kili snorted and shook his head.

"Loud as always. A few fights here and there, but classes are going well I think.  I won't really know until the exam grades come back," Faramir shrugged very slightly, glancing down the table to where Kili was.

"You shouldn't put so much stock into scores and grades," Ori said with a faint smile. "I'm sure you're doing very well anyway."

Faramir offered a rueful quirk of his lips, "It's an outward sign that I am, though.  It's nice to have those, you know?"

Returning the smile, Ori nodded. "That's true. But are you doing well? Not with grades or numbers, but you?"

"I'm doing as well as ever," he answered.  "Boromir had dinner with Father earlier this week, and I was just in to pick up the books to see about getting some work done.  So, yes."

Reaching a hand out, Ori rested it on his shoulder. "At least you no longer live with him," he said softly.

Faramir's smile didn't quite reach his eyes, "Small mercies, right?  I really did just come over to say hello and see how you're doing.  We should see about catching up sometime maybe?"

"I'd like that," Ori said. "And I hope that your brother is doing well too, dinner aside."

"He seems to be."  He glanced toward the table where Ori's brothers were seated, lowering his voice a bit, "How's your family?"

Ori glanced sideways. "The same as ever," he said with a faint smile.

That earned another small smile from Faramir, "Well so long as they're doing well then."

"And do you still read so much?" Ori asked. "It's been a while since anyone has been able to discuss books with me."

Faramir nodded, smiling, "Every book I can get my hands on and have time for."

"I just found one I think you might enjoy," Ori said. "You must come sometime, so I can lend it to you."

"I'll have to do that. I look forward to being able to talk to someone about books again.  There aren't many people willing to do so."

"Then you really must come around more," Ori said as another roar went up behind him. His eyes slide over and he shook his head slightly. "Or I come to where you and your brother are staying."

Faramir's gaze darted to the table, "Either way.  Maybe trade off those two options, see which works better."

"Yes," Ori agreed, Nori tugging on his arm to get his attention.

Faramir looked in that direction, "I should let you get back to your dinner..."

"It was good to see you," Ori said. "But perhaps a quieter time. Do come to get that book though, and we can talk more then."

"Sounds like a plan.  I'll swing by sometime this next week.  Good night, Ori," Faramir offered him another brief smile before shifting the ledger to his other arm and starting toward the door.

"Good night, Faramir," Ori said after him before sitting back down.

w-w-w

Thorin watched Fili and Kili walk in front of him, their heads bent together and talking quickly about something he didn't quite have the energy to listen to. He felt oddly content, which wasn't something he was used to feeling anymore. But he'd eaten well, had smiled at Fili and Kili, and had watched Bilbo move around the table with more attention than he usually watched.

He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk when a scream went through, sirens blazing past them. Eyes snapping to the horizon, he saw an orange glow in front of them and broke out into a run. The rest of the company paused before chasing after him, only Fili and Kili really keeping pace, Dwalin a few steps behind and everyone after that.

Rounding the corner finally to their apartment building, he froze, flames leaping up the skyline.

Balin came to a stop beside Thorin, his eyes wide as he looked up the street--the fire apartment doing everything they could to keep the flames from spreading tot eh surrounding buildings.  There were enough people lit that it was obvious that at least many of their people were safe--there would be no knowing how many until they actually took a head count.  There was an almost panicked "no" behind them and Bombur was moving swiftly past to find his wife and children.

Thorin simply stood, staring wide eyed, Fili and Kili already moving through the crowd and counting as Thorin wavered backward. Dwalin caught him, Thorin remembering too clearly another fire he'd witnessed, years ago.

Dis had seen Bombur from where she'd been moving among those assembled, taking a small child from a mother of three and soothing the little one as best she could.  As soon as she saw Bombur, though, she handed the child back, motioning for someone else to come help and wove through her people, pausing briefly when she saw her sons but continuing int he direction they had come from.  By the time she reached Thorin and Dwalin she was visibly shaking and it took everything in her not to look back over her shoulder at the inferno.

Reaching out blindly, Thorin drew his sister against his side. "What happened?" he rasped out, eyes still on the fire. "Dis, what happened?"

She curled nearer into her brother's embrace, her forehead coming to rest against his shoulder as she shook her head, "I don't know.  Thorin, I don't know.  It happened so fast.  I haven't even had time to check--" her voice cracked and she drew a deep breath.  "There was smoke and flames and, and we got everyone out the back that we could.  I don't know if it was everyone, I don't know what happened, I don't know if anyone else knows."

"We'll find out," he murmured. "One way or another." Tightening his arm, he smoothed some of Dis' hair down her back as Fili came out of the crowd, eyes wild and panicked, though he was holding it together on the surface.

"We've accounted for most people," he said and paused, a roar coming up from the crowd in Gloin's voice, his left arm wrapped around his wife. "We haven't found Gimli though."

Dis pulled back from her brother enough to turn and look at her son, her eyes darting toward the building and then toward where Gloin and his wife were, "Has no one seen him?"

"Not tonight," Fili said, Kili appearing at his elbow.

"When was the last time anyone saw him?" his mother responded, voice not quite steady as she tried not to think of what she would do if it was one of them missing.

"At school," Kili said. "He said he had something to do though and didn't come home with me."

Dis ran a hand over her face, swearing quietly, "No one saw him come home, though?"

"No one I've heard," Fili said, Gloin moving quickly through the crowd, growing more panicked as a car screeched up to the curb. Thranduil stepped out, fine blond hair more out of control than any of the Ereborians had ever seen and shadows under his eyes.

Dis' eyes narrowed dangerously at the officer, "What the hell does he want?"

"Probably nothing we do," Thorin said and his voice lowered into a growl as Thranduil approached closer, eyes glued to the building. "Funny, how you're on this call."

Thranduil's eyes snapped over. "Funny indeed," he said quietly.

Jaw tensing, Dis bit back what she wanted to say to the officer, murmuring to her brother that she was going to go help Gloin and his wife do another search for Gimli.

"Someone's missing?" Thranduil asked and Thorin narrowed his eyes.

"Gloin's son, I'm sure you've heard of him," Thorin answered and the police officer actually flinched back, shocking Thorin.

"Yes, he and my son have certainly..." Thranduil stopped, shaking his head and looking at the building again, the flames finally starting to go down. "I need to make a report of what's happened here."

"And will you claim that no one did this again?" Thorin asked. "Decades ago you claimed there was not enough evidence to bring any claims against anyone for the burning of my home and murder of my grandfather."

Thranduil flinched again and Thorin felt as shocked as the first time the usually contained man had done so.

Balin frowned from where he stood a couple of steps behind Thorin, "And even if you don't, will you actually go after the ones responsible?"

Thranduil glanced over at him, recognizing him too from years before and took a deep breath, visibly pulling himself back together. "Decades ago," he said, actually meeting Thorin's eyes. "There _wasn't_ enough evidence to take to court," he said and Thorin's chin lifted in challenge. "And I'm sorry for that," he added, Thorin rocking back. "But this time... I'm fairly certain of who did it."

"And who might that be?" Thorin asked, trying to find his footing.

"Azog," Thranduil replied simply.

That earned a long stare from Balin, "And why would you be so certain of that? And is it enough to take to court, since that seems to be the problem last time."

"The case is convincing," Thranduil muttered into the ground, Fili tensing from where he and Kili still stood nearby. Balin offered a suspicious look at that, but fell silent.

Gimli had spotted the glow from the fire three blocks away and had run the remaining distance home, skidding to a stop at the sight before him.  He swore and sprinted to where most everyone was, seeking out one or both of his parents frantically and ignoring the relieved "there he is" that he heard from others.

Gloin spotted him before Gimli saw him, storming toward his son in the light of the flames. "Where the hell were you?" he roared, several others falling silent and taking several steps backward.

Gaze darting from the burning building to his father, Gimli swallowed hard, "I was with a friend.  I lost track of time.  I..."

"You lost track of time?" Gloin yelled again, hands on Gimli's shoulders and it seemed like he couldn't decide whether to shake or hug him. "You were gone and I wouldn't know if something had happened to you, I might never have known!"

"I-I'm sorry," Gimli managed, his eyes wide and his voice anything but steady at his father's reaction.  He'd seen Gloin angry, disappointed, happy, but the fear he was seeing in his father's expression and feeling in his touch was something so vastly different that he didn't know what to do with it,  "I didn't...I didn't mean to worry you.  It won't happen again!"

"That'd better be true," Gloin said, shaking Gimli by the shoulders once before yanking him into an embrace.

Tensing at that, Gimli returned the embrace awkwardly, "I'm alright, Dad."

Gloin made a choked sound and didn't trust his voice. Instead, he only tightened his grip.

Across the way, Thranduil swallowed. "I have to go home," he said, having not seen Legolas all day, even as he left to answer the call. The understanding look Thorin gave him made his stomach hurt. "We'll talk more tomorrow," he added as Thorin looked over the milling people, eyes settling on his nephews.

"Tomorrow then," Thorin said.

Dis approached as Thranduil pulled away.  Stopping next to her brother, she murmured, "We're going to need to find somewhere to stay."

"We'll rebuild," he said and nodded. "But tonight. There's hotels in the area, and it's certainly not a tourist season."

"We'll also need Gandalf," Dwalin said. "His help will be needed before the end of this.

"Yes," Thorin agreed.

"Will the hotels accept us?" She asked softly, twisting her fingers around the silver clasp on her right braid.

Dwalin watched her silently for a moment. "We have the money," Thorin said. "They can hardly turn us all away. Especially not with the children."

"We'll tell Gandalf," Fili said after a moment and Kili nodded.

Thorin looked over at them and then nodded. "Dwalin, go with them," he said.

Dis nodded very slightly, "We should gather the others and try to find lodgings now before it gets too late." Thorin nodded even as Dwalin, Fili and Kili broke off and headed back toward the restaurant.

w-w-w

Bilbo was just pulling on his coat to leave for the night when they entered.  He looked them over quickly and turned to fetch Gandalf from the backroom.

Gandalf emerged moments later, seeing the ash in Fili's hair. "What's happened?" he asked, and Dwalin stepped forward, quickly explaining it. Gandalf looked between the three younger ones. "Bilbo," he said. "Perhaps Fili and Kili could stay with you tonight," before packing Dwalin into his backroom to discuss further.

Grey eyes wide, Bilbo simply nodded before looking back to the brothers, "If you two are alright with that arrangement.  I've got space in my living room."

They shared a look, almost wanting to retreat and stand by Thorin before Fili nodded in exhaustion. "If you wouldn't mind..."

"Not at all," Bilbo answered quietly.  "I was just on my way out."

"Thank you," Kili added as they trailed after him outside.

Bilbo nodded, taking the quickest route back to his apartment that only involved well lit streets.  He unlocked the door and stepped inside, holding the door for the brothers, "I'll see what I can find for blankets and pillows for the two of you.  If you would like, the shower's just through the bedroom there," he nodded to the door to his room.

"Thank you," Fili said, voice rough as he leaned against his brother.

Bilbo offered another nod, rather than a verbal response and disappeared into the bedroom to find any extra blankets and a couple of pillows for the brothers, emerging a few minutes later with an armful, "I'm afraid I haven't much beyond the floor to offer you.  I've been meaning to see about a hide-away, but I just haven’t had the chance yet."  He knew he was chattering, but the silence was almost deafening to him at the moment.

"The floor is fine," Kili assured him. "Really, it is. I just hope everyone else finds something," he added, shaking his head slightly.

"Did..." Bilbo hesitated as he dropped the blankets and pillows on the couch and set to work moving some of the smaller furniture around to actually make room for two grown men to sleep on his living room floor, "Did everyone make it out safely?"

"We think so," Fili said.

"Gimli finally showed up," Kili added. "So far as I know he was the only one really missing."

"I'm glad to hear that."  He paused again, stepping back from where he'd pushed the coffee table against a wall next to a small bookshelf, "Are you all going to be alright?"

The brothers exchanged a look before nodding. Even the movement looked a bit forced. "I think so," Fili said.

"I hope so," Kili added.

Bilbo turned to look at the two brothers, "If you need anything, any of you, please let me know."

"We will," Fili assured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are, strictly speaking, more gay pairings in this story than probably would have been realistic to the 1920s. But you do what you can with a cast made up almost entirely of males. 
> 
> Also, this story was really meant to focus only on Hobbit characters with a few exceptions, and more and more Lord of the Rings characters migrated over. Which is actually a lot of fun to roll with.
> 
> Further, remember that authors live off words and are very passionate about words, and we'd love to hear what everyone's been thinking so far!


	9. Beauty that Destruction had Been

Legolas let himself into the house quietly, having been unnerved but not unrelieved by how quiet it was when he first approached.  He turned on the light in the entry, locking the door behind himself, and made his way quietly through the house, making certain it was in fact empty.  He pulled the curtains on the living room windows and curled up on the couch with a book to wait until his father got home.  Hopefully, if he was lucky, Thranduil had been out all day and had yet to come home.

A short while later Thranduil pushed the door open, considering the light and all but running into the living room to make sure Legolas was there, Azog's earlier words ringing around his ears, the implied threat against his son.

Closing his book and looking up at his father, Legolas' eyes widened slightly as he took in Thranduil's state, "Father?  What happened?"

"Where were you?" Thranduil grit out past the panic still trying to calm down in his throat.

"Wh-what?" the teen looked uncertain as he rose from the couch.

"Where the hell were you?" Thranduil repeated. "Do you have any idea--" he started and bit the words off.

"I was out with a friend and I lost track of time." His gaze searched his father's face as he repeated his question, "What happened?"

"What didn't happen?" Thranduil bit off. "And who was this friend you were out so late with anyway? Have you completely lost your mind, or any regard for your own safety?"

A lie leapt to his lips regarding the friend, but stopped there when he took a closer look at his father, "I was careful.  I'm alright, Ada.  I'm home and I'm safe."

"Do you have any idea how close to that you came to not being?" Thranduil asked. "Azog--" he started and took a deep breath, changing tracts slightly. "There's a lot of dangerous people out there. The Ereborian's building was burned down tonight."

Paling at the mention of the gang lord and at the latest news, Legolas took a hesitant step toward his father, "Are, are they alright?"

"Yes, though Gloin's son was missing," Thranduil said and stopped, considering that Legolas had still not been home when he left, and when Gimli finally arrived back at the building.

"Did they find him?" Legolas tried to keep his tone from giving anything away in exactly how much he knew about Gimli's absence.

"Yes," Thranduil said slowly. "And he gave the same excuse you did, almost word for word."

"Did he?" cursing their luck silently, Legolas tried for something resembling confused innocence.

"It's been a very long day," Thranduil said slowly, mind still putting things together. "Yet, you don't seem to have a new black eye or bloody nose so apparently you don't always fight."

Rocking back on his heels, his son shook his head and decided he might as well go with some form of honesty, "No.  Sometimes we talk."

Thranduil rubbed a hand over his eyes. "So if you can talk civilly, why is it you fight every day at school? Or are you not even talking then?"

Legolas paused for one damning moment too long before he answered, "We fight because we can only take so many stupid comments in a given time period."

"So not talking might work out better for you both then?" Thranduil snapped.

"I don't know, we haven't tried it much," Legolas replied sharply.

"And all that time you spent together?" Thranduil said, something like panic on his face again. "Good god, Legolas, tell me you don't do anything stupid where people can find you."

Shaking his head, his son looked at him aghast, "No.  Of course not.  Do you really think we're that stupid?"  He swore silently at the use of we instead of I.

"I'm starting to," Thranduil said.

"Ada," Legolas started, but broke off and fell silent for a moment. "We're careful.  I know what it means if anyone found out."

"He's an Ereborian," Thranduil added. "That's an entirely different level you might not be considering. The newspapers go a bit mad with any reason they can come up with hating them. Not to mention what my _career_ is." He paused, finally taking off his uniform hat and throwing it on the table, running a hand through his hair. "Damn it, how long has this even be going on?"

His son flinched very slightly at that, "A...A couple of months."

For a long moment Thranduil just looked at him before shaking his head and muttering something about desperate times and measures before stomping back to the kitchen to riffle around in the high cupboards for the few remaining bottles of wine he'd stashed away at the beginning of Prohibition.

Remaining where he was staring at the doorway his father had disappeared through, Legolas finally started moving again when he heard the clink of the bottles.  He stopped in the kitchen doorway, watching his father in silence for the space of several breaths, "Ada, I...I'm sorry."

Thranduil took a deep breath and motioned Legolas a bit closer. "Azog threatened you today," he said quietly. "We were picking him up to question him about trying to take out some of the Ereborians and then we let him go and barely had he walked out the door when their home was burning to the ground. But he threatened _you_ too."

Legolas froze, his eyes widening, and he drew an unsteady breath before crossing to his father's side, "I...Ada, I...I’ll be home on time from here on.  I'll come straight home."

Using the arm nearest Legolas, Thranduil pulled him into an embrace. "I've already lost your mother," he managed. "I can't lose you too. I just... I can't."

Pausing for a brief moment, Legolas returned the embrace and leaned against his father, murmuring assurances, "You won't.  I'll be careful.  I promise."

"I'd better not," Thranduil said into his hair and sighed. "If you need to bring him here, for privacy and safety, when I'm at work..." he paused for a beat. "I never actually want to know about it."

Legolas went completely still at that for a long moment before nodding very slightly against his father's shoulder, "Thank you, Ada."

”I don't want to know," Thranduil repeated. "And please don't let the neighbors start to gossip about it, and... for that matter just _try_ to stop fighting."

"I won't let them.  And, and we will try to stop," Legolas promised.

"Thank you," Thranduil managed, running a hand over Legolas' blond hair that was so like his own.

w-w-w

Even though Fili and Kili had gone to sleep with their backs turned to each other on Bilbo's floor, by the time morning came they had turned and shifted so they were nestled together. Having gotten far too used to sharing the same bed shamelessly, Kili had his arm thrown over Fili's waist, his head on Fili's shoulder, and in return Fili had one of his legs twined around Kili's, nose pressed to his long black hair.

Bilbo opened his bedroom door in the morning and stood there blinking at the brothers for a long moment before deciding he needed tea to deal with it.  He quietly moved past them to the kitchen and set the kettle on to boil, turning to lean against the counter and consider the two of them for a long moment.

Having stirred slightly when the door opened, Fili started to wake up first, smiling into Kili's hair for the simple fact he was still getting used to being able to wake up with the other pressed against his side before he started registering other things, like the hard floor rather than bed underneath them. Remembering last night he slowly detangled himself from his brother, who slept heavier than he could ever manage. Sitting up, he stretched before looking over at where Bilbo stood, face shuttering off before he could think about it.

One eyebrow arched, but Bilbo shrugged slightly and simply turned to dig out a frying pan, holding it up to silently ask if they would be wanting breakfast.

Fili nodded, rising and stepping over. "Good morning," he murmured, not wanting to wake Kili up yet.

"Morning," Bilbo responded.  "Anything particular you'd like for breakfast?"

"Whatever you have," he said, voice still rough from sleep.

Nodding slightly, the other withdrew some eggs and sausage from the ice box and set to work on making enough for three, "I think I have some coffee around here somewhere, and the proper equipment to make it in if you would like some."

"Thank you," Fili said, nodding as he found the coffee press and started setting it up, trying still to fight down what felt like rising panic.

"You're welcome."  Bilbo pulled the tea kettle off of the stovetop and poured himself a mug of tea, "Did you sleep well?"

Fili glanced over at where Kili had curled himself up in the warmth he'd left behind and nodded. "As well as could be expected," he said.

Nodding again, his friend glanced toward Kili as well, "You two are welcome to stay as long as you need to."

"Thank you," Fili repeated again. "It is very kind of you. We... we'll need to find Thorin today, and figure out what is to happen. And," he paused. "Probably buy new clothes at the very least."

"My offer from last night still stands if any of you need anything."

"You're really being too kind now," Fili said, with a faint laugh as the smell of food finally woke up Kili, who looked around in confusion for a moment until he could find his brother.

"I've said it before and I'll say it again, I consider you friends and I like to be able to help when my friends need it," Bilbo responded, turning the sausages.

"Still," Fili said and Kili finally pushed himself up, stretching on his way over.

"Is that food for us too?" he asked, blinking blearily at it.

"It is in fact," Bilbo replied, getting three plates down from the cupboard and dishing up the finished meals.

"You are amazing," Kili said, eyes widening at the food and Fili laughed at him.

Chuckling, Bilbo handed Kili a plate and a fork, "Why thank you.  I try."

"You're doing a bang up job at the moment," Kili assured him, starting to eat while still standing.

"Sit yourself down," Fili said, shoving his shoulder with his. "Be polite."

Bilbo laughed lightly at that, offering Fili the second plate and taking his own meal, and his cup of tea, over to the table.

Shuffling Kili over to the table, Fili also sat. "Do you have plans for today?" he asked, eating at a more sedate pace than Kili. "As it there is no school and such."

"Not really.  I don't usually do much of anything on Saturdays.  Take a lazy day and see about getting homework done, perhaps," Bilbo answered.

Kili made a face like he considered that boring but Fili actually looked jealous a moment. "That sounds nice," he said.

Bilbo nodded very slightly, "It can be, but when it's the same thing every week it actually grows a bit tedious."

Fili's eyes dropped, considering the last time he'd seen Bilbo on a weekend. "Sometimes that's better than the alternative," he shrugged and rose. "You said we might use your shower?"

"Of course.  Feel free.  There are towels in the small cupboard by the bathroom door."

"Thanks," Fili said, rising even as Kili started looking back at the kitchen and wondering if there were seconds to be acquired. As Fili moved off, he brushed their hands together, Kili smiling after him.

Bilbo rose, having caught the exchange, and Kili's look.  He started on making up a couple more eggs for the younger man, "So, did _you_ sleep well?"

"Mostly," he said. "I mean, the floors not bad and it was warm--" he hesitated a second, and also decided not to mention how bereft he felt like waking up and Fili wasn't there. "But well, overall."

"Do the two of you often end up twined around each other at night?" Bilbo asked innocently enough.

Kili startled eyes wide on his face as he looked over at Bilbo. "What?"

Bilbo's gaze was focused on the eggs and his expression carefully neutral, "You were rather comfortably twined around one another this morning."

"Oh," he said, not having been conscious when Fili untangled their limbs, though he remembered waking up at one point with his face in Fili's hair. "Well, we slept that way as children," he said. "When we didn't have the space really for two beds. So I guess we never fell out of the habit, when, um, together."

Bilbo hummed slightly at that, whisking Kili's plate from in front of him to dish up the eggs and set it in front of the other.  Pouring himself another cup of tea he glanced in that direction, "Are you sleeping together?"

Kili froze, eyes huge on his face. "That's a preposterous idea," he said finally.

"That's not a denial."

"It's illegal on three different accounts too," Kili added, looking at him a lot more warily than he had. “Funny you should even think it possible.”

"Something tells me illegality has little to do with matters like this," Bilbo responded simply, sipping at his tea.  "If you keep evading I'm going to assume the answer is yes."

"I'm not," Kili started. "I'm not evading, it's just a mad thing to ask is all. Whatever got it into your head?"

"Watching the way the two of you move around each other.  The way you look at each other when you think other people aren't going to notice.  The way that you were twined around each other this morning--far less like brothers and far more like lovers," Bilbo listed.

Kili's jaw worked for a moment, staring at the other. "It's morally, socially, and legally reprehensible," he managed finally. "And I've never cared about any of that."

Bilbo considered that information, decided that it really wasn't his concern in the grand scheme of things and there were far worse things the brothers could be doing, and nodded.  He was still trying to process the fact that his suspicion had been correct and all but confirmed, "Somehow that doesn't surprise me.  Does anyone else know?"

"No," Kili said and looked horrified. "I hope to god no one else knows."

"Well, you've my word it'll stay that way at least.  What the hell are the two of you thinking?"

"About what?" Fili asked, emerging while still toweling off his hair. He stopped at the expression on both their faces. "What the hell are we thinking about what?" he repeated, panic in his throat again.

Bilbo drew his gaze away from Kili to look at the blond, "Sleeping together."

The towel almost slid out of Fili's hands. "What? W-why would you...?" He looked over at Kili who tried to smile back reassuringly. "Fuck," Fili said finally instead, unable to come up with anything else.

"In all honesty he never directly admitted that you were." Bilbo responded.  "I do ask again, what the hell are the two of you thinking?"

"Very stupid things, most like," Fili said, holding himself tensely still.

"I'm not going to tell anyone," Bilbo murmured.  "Though you two are blind if you think people aren't going to notice eventually."

“Then we'll be more careful," Fili said, crossing his arms over his chest, looking somewhat less regal and confident with his mass of hair damp and uncombed.

"But people have already noticed," Kili said. "Because Smaug--"

Bilbo paled at that, his grey eyes darting to Kili, "What about Smaug?"

"He guessed at it," Fili said, shoulders tensing.

"When?" Bilbo asked quietly.

"A while ago," Fili said. "After Thorin was home from the hospital." He took a deep breath, and then another.

Bilbo drew a steadying breath, leaning against the counter as he nodded, "I...I'm glad the two of you are alright, in that case."

They looked at each other, and Fili let out a long breath. "I hope that's the case," he said finally, looking back at Bilbo. "Are you alright? You look a bit..." he trailed off, making an almost helpless motion instead.

"Well, I find I have yet another cause to worry about you two.  I'll be fine," Bilbo shook his head very slightly.

"We'll be fine," Fili tried to assure him.

"You don't have to worry about us," Kili tried to protest and it felt flat to his own ears.

"Whether I have to or not, I do," Bilbo responded.  He steadied himself for a long moment before pushing away from the counter, "I'm going to go shower and get changed, if the two of you will excuse me."

"Of course," Fili said, stepping back and watching the other.

Bilbo hesitated for another long moment before slipping past Fili and disappearing into the bedroom.

The brothers both looked after him until he was gone, Fili finally moving over to sit at the table next to Kili. Before either of them could really think about it, Kili slid his hand through Fili's and held on. "That was foolish," Fili murmured.

"I know, I should've--I need to practice a better denial apparently," Kili said, ducking down his chin. "I wish... I wish I didn't have to."

Fili glanced over at him sideways. "But we both knew it would have to be done," he said. "Who would accept us as we are?"

"He doesn't seem to hate us," Kili said after a moment and Fili let out a shuddering breath.

"No, at least not that."

Bilbo emerged a while later, his curly hair damp and falling in his eyes.  He brushed it further up his forehead and looked toward the brothers, "Do you have any idea where to start looking to check in with your uncle?"

"The hotel nearest... well, where we used to live," Fili said, rising, Kili having tried his hardest to tame his hair down without a brush.

"Do you mind if I come along?" Bilbo asked, glancing from one brother to the other.

Kili's face paled slightly, trying not to read an ulterior motive about exposing them into that question and he finally nodded. "Can I have a hairbrush first?" Fili asked, trying not to be blatantly vain but hating the thought of going out looking like a mess.

Bilbo nodded once, disappearing briefly and returning to hand the brush to Fili.  He glanced at Kili and paused, "You've got my word that what you told me remains a secret."

Not entirely looking like he believed him, having more than inherited Dwalin's distrust of outsiders, Kili nodded, watching his brother work through his hair.

A short while later found them entering the hotel Fili had indicated.  It was a relatively small establishment that had seen better days, but it was a place that had been able to take on a large number of guests in the middle of the night.  Balin was on his way down the stairs, pausing when he saw the three younger men, "There you are, lads.  Your uncle's on the third floor--room 307."

"Thank you," Fili said and paused. "How did you fare through the night?" he asked.

"I'm not certain any of us got much sleep," Balin answered.  "There was much to be discussed, and several plans to be started."  That wasn't even mentioning the fire of Erebor itself echoing in his mind all night.

Fili nodded, as he thought that he'd turned around and gathered Kili to him in the middle of the night after nightmares about fire. "Good luck, Balin," he said, gripping the older man's shoulder before heading up the stairs.

Balin offered a faint smile, before continuing on his path out the door to walk past the site of the fire and see if there was anything salvageable there.  Watching him go, Bilbo shook himself before following Fili up the stairs.

Knocking on the door, Fili pushed it open. "Uncle?" he called.

Dis looked up from where she was seated in one of the chairs of the room, rising as she saw her sons, "Fili, Kili, there you are."

"Mother," Fili said, bending down for a quick embrace but when Kili approached to hug her, he held on longer, feeling an odd mix of guilt and the need for reassurance.

Dis returned her youngest son's embrace, running a gentle hand over his dark hair, "I'm glad to see the two of you alright.  Did you manage any sleep last night?"

"Yeah," Kili assured. "Biblo lent us his floor."

Looking over to where Bilbo was hovering by the door, Dis raised an eyebrow and considered how much the man had been around in recent weeks, "Well, it seems thanks are in order, Mr. Baggins."

"It was no trouble," he replied quietly.

"He even made us breakfast," Kili said, forcing a grin. It was then that Thorin walked out of the bathroom, finishing his shower after talking all night with Dwalin and Balin. His hair hung unbraided and dark around his face and he smiled at the sight of his nephews, not noticing Bilbo yet.

Bilbo felt something catch in his throat, and he swallowed, deciding that going to the hotel had been a mistake.  Dis smiled faintly at her son, "Did he indeed?"  She glanced toward her brother, "It seems your nephews passed a somewhat restful night on Mr. Baggins' floor and he made them breakfast this morning.  Balin stopped by while you were in the shower to say he was on his way over to the site."

 "Good," Thorin said, eyes sleepy and still trying to wake himself up from the brief nap he'd taken at dawn. Finally looking over, his expression closed off slightly when he saw Bilbo but he was still smiling. "Ah, Mr. Baggins. Thank you for helping my nephews last night."

Bilbo nodded very slightly, murmuring, "Really it was no trouble.  If, if there's anything I can do for you please let me know."

Dis' brows rose at that, her expression distrustful as she glanced from Bilbo to her brother.

Thorin glanced at his sister and snapped his eyes away, back to the younger man in front of him. "Of course," he said. "Thank you for the offer."

"You're welcome," Bilbo responded quietly, drawing his gaze away from Thorin to glance at the other three people present and seriously weigh the foolishness that had made him come.

Pausing for a long moment and considering how little she knew this man who knew her family well enough to let her sons sleep on his floor, Dis spoke, "You should join us for dinner, soon, Mr. Baggins.  Once we're a little more stable in our accommodations, of course."

All three men whipped their heads over to stare at her, for some different reasons. "But," Kili started and snapped his jaw shut.

Bilbo's eyes widened slightly at that, "I wouldn't want to impose."

Lips curling upward, Dis shook her head and ignored the looks from her brother and sons, "Nonsense.  You've been invited, as such it's hardly an imposition."

Thorin hesitated for a moment before nodding. "It would not be an imposition," he said, unsure how comfortable he really was with the idea.

“If you're all sure," Bilbo said with a hesitant smile.

"More than that, we insist," Dis nodded, still watching her brother from the corner of her eye.

"Certainly," Thorin said, more distracted by the way Kili's face was so pale.

"Then how can I refuse?"  Bilbo spoke again.

Dis' lips curled upward slightly, "Well, we'll contact you when we're in a better location for it, then.  Thank you again, Mr. Baggins."

"I'll see you in classes," Fili said, not quite meeting anyone's eyes but offering Bilbo a smile anyway.

Bilbo inclined his head at that, "Of course.  Take, take care, all of you."  His eyes moved to focus on Thorin for a long moment before he started toward the door.

Thorin opened his mouth, saying he'd walk him out and shut it, considering the state of his braids still. "We shall hope to see you soon then."

"See you soon," Bilbo echoed with a smile at Thorin before he slipped out, the door closing softly behind him.

Once he left, Kili let out a breath he hadn't quite realized he'd been holding, glancing at Fili. "We need clothes," he said as Thorin stepped back to start working through his long hair.

Dis nodded slightly at that, looking her sons over, "I was going out in about thirty minutes, if the two of you don't mind my accompanying you."

Kili looked sideways at his brother before they both nodded. "Of course, mother. We'll be downstairs," Fili said, and they moved back and out the door.

Dis watched them go before turning to look at her brother, "None of you are all that pleased with me inviting him to dinner, are you?"

“None of us?" he asked, actually sounding surprised.

"Well, you're not exactly upset about it, except strangely Kili.  I suppose I'm just trying to figure out what goes on in that head of yours, Thorin," she spoke quietly, watching him.

"I'm not so sure I want to know what's going on in my head," Thorin said, looking at the mirror as he weaved the braids around his face. "I could not possibly explain what goes through Kili's."

"What do you know of Mr. Baggins?" his sister asked after a moment.

"Not much," he said, rolling his shoulders. "He wants to study literature at college, and is in Fili's class. He..." Thorin paused. "Works with Gandalf, and he knows at least something of our activities."

"And he seems strangely willing to help," Dis murmured, letting her gaze move back to the door.

"He has since I met him," Thorin said, frowning at the door in the mirror. "I am not sure I understand it in the least."

"And you've yet to find an ulterior motive for him doing so?"

"No," Thorin said, shaking his head.

Dis sighed very softly, "I'd feel better if we even knew he had one.  Is that strange?"

"We live hard lives," Thorin replied. "It is not strange to be distrustful of those we do not know." He paused a beat. "Dwalin doesn't like him."

"Doesn't he?"  Dis glanced toward Thorin, "Has he said why?"

"He's soft, an outsider, and tries to be too helpful by far," Thorin shrugged. "And Dwalin insists he knows me better than I know myself."

Dis considered her brother's words for a long moment, weighing each one carefully before finally speaking again, "I suppose, more than what Dwalin thinks of him, what do you think of him?"

"I do not know," Thorin replied, shaking his head and finally looking back at her. "Anytime I think I have an idea I realize I don't."

She rose, crossing the room to his side and looking up at him, "Do you like him?"  There was more than one way she supposed her question could be taken, and she wasn't certain which she was asking.

Tilting his head, Thorin considered. "Yes. I would like to, at any rate."

"Do you trust him?"  Dis knew how dangerous the question was, and how uncertain the answer could be as well, how hard it was to trust an outsider in even the smallest ways.

"No," Thorin said, the sound reflexive, automatically. "Not yet."

"Do you want to?" she murmured, watching him closely.

He hesitated, aware of her scrutiny and shrugged slightly. "Yes."

Dis relaxed slightly, nodding, "Then let's hope he earns that."

Thorin offered her a faint smile, something relaxing in the line of his shoulders. "Will you be prepared to go out with your sons?"

"I cleaned up while you caught a nap earlier," she answered, returning the smile.  "I'm as ready as I can be at the moment."

He frowned. "Then why did you tell them it would be--" he stopped and hummed. "Oh."

"Oh?"  She arched an eyebrow at him.  "I wanted a few moments to talk to you in private before we left."

"Yes, I realize that now," he said and shook his head, before he finished the last braid and dropped his hands from his hair.

Dis offered her brother a bit of a smile, "Well, I'd best go meet them, then.  We'll be back later, take care of yourself while we're gone, brother."

"Dwalin and I are likely to talk to Gandalf again," Thorin said and huffed out a breath. "I can take plenty care of myself without the three of you, I can promise that."

"I'll do my best to believe you, but will feel better seeing you intact when we get home," Dis replied, her smile still in place.

"I'll do my hardest," he assured her, voice grave but eyes smiling.

"Good.  We'll be back in a few hours," she assured before breaking eye contact and turning to leave.

Thorin laughed again, watching her go before turning to finish preparing for the day, tying his tie and shrugging on his jacket.

w-w-w

Looking around the store, Kili focused his gaze on the rack of ties in front of him. "How do you think mom would react?" he asked, under his breath and Fili snapped his eyes over.

"What?"

"If she found out," Kili said. "I mean, it's mom, you don't think she'd--"

"No one else is going to find out," Fili replied, voice not quite hard. "So don't worry about it alright."

"But, if they did--" Kili started and Fili shook his head, the clasps in his braids clinking together with the force of it.

With a deep breath, he started riffling through the ties. "No one else will find out," he ground out and Kili blinked and decided not to push the issue, picking up a red tie to consider instead. "No," Fili said, voice a bit strained when he glanced over.

"No?" Kili blinked at him. "But I like red."

Fili's jaw worked for a second. "The color doesn't suit," he managed.

Dis approached, a couple of dresses draped over her arm.  She paused, running a hand over the ties, "It does surprise me some times how little the general public notices about symbols.  One wonders if they would sell red ties if they knew."

"Huh?" Kili blinked over at her, head tilted.

"Red ties are usually worn by those trying to attract the attention of another man," Fili said, paying much more attention to the pale blue one he was holding and Kili dropped the red tie as if he'd been burned by it.

Dis' eyebrows arched very slightly at that, but she picked up a different tie in a dark orange with a hint of red shot through it and considered it before offering it to her younger son for consideration, "There are other signs to confirm that's the intent, but yes it is an indicator."

Kili eyed the new tie with some distrust, suddenly unsure about anything remotely resembling red, as Fili got an expression like he suddenly was realizing exactly what they had walked themselves into and how difficult it really would be to keep themselves a secret. "Well, that's," Kili started and shook his head. "You'd think they'd warn us about that."

"Who?" Fili smiled, the expression strained. "Your school teachers? That would require admitting such people exist."

Setting the tie back on the rack and withdrawing a deep green one instead to offer to Kili, Dis shook her head, "It's something you have to learn on your own.  Much in this world is, after all.  And you're aware of it now."

Muttering something, Kili shrugged before accepting the green tie and turning to look at knit sweaters, leaving Fili still riffling through ties with their mother.

Dis watched him go before glancing at her eldest son, speaking in an undertone, "Is everything alright with Kili?"

Fili let out a breath, glad she was asking him and not his brother outright. "It's been..." he shrugged. "He's just frazzled, and he shows it more. After all, we just lost our home and with everything else that's been going on," he shrugged again, holding up a brown and gold tie and considering it.

"And are you doing alright?" She looked at the tie in his hands and reached for one with similar coloring but a slightly different pattern, offering it to him for comparison.

As he looked between them, he shrugged again. "I show it less than him is all," he said quietly. "You know he's always been more stupidly honest, but no, I'm not doing particularly fine."

"Is it more than what's been happening, or will you not answer that question?"  she murmured.

"What's been going on," he said, which at least was entirely true. "With school, and Smaug, and every time I turn around it seems someone else has gotten themselves shot or stabbed or, well, are me and getting my pride handed to me in a variety of alleyways."

She rested a hand on his arm and briefly wondered when the child she'd been able to take into her arms to soothe had turned into a man who she felt she hardly knew.

Startling slightly, he looked over, resting his opposite hand over her's. "I'm sorry, mother," he murmured. "Things will work themselves out in time."

Her lips curled very slightly upward at that, though her eyes put a lie to her words, "Of course they will, Fili.  They always do."

"Except when they don't," he said, catching her expression.

"Except when they don't," she echoed.  "But, we will rebuild, and we will continue our lives as we always do.  Nothing in this world comes easily, but it's worth it in the end."  Dis looked up, meeting her son's eyes and addressing his earlier apology, "Never apologize for voicing your thoughts."

"You think I'd ever apologize for thinking?" he smiled down at her. "No, that was just for the state of the world. I'd... I'd have liked to make it a better place and I'm not doing very well at that."

She offered him a more genuine smile at that, "You do just fine.  The fact that you wish to do so is more than many, and you make mine a better place, for what that may be worth."

"Then I'll take that," he said, smile looking a bit easier finally.

"I wish I could offer you more," Dis murmured.

"But it's what we have," he said with a smile. "So we take what we can get and we live with it."

Returning the smile, Dis nodded, "And it's not a bad thing to live with, often."

"So long as you think so," he said with another smile, looking around until he could spot Kili and relaxing slightly more once the other was back in his sight.

Dis followed his gaze and felt some of the tension that had knotted her up the night before leave with both her sons safe and nearby.

w-w-w

Elrond startled slightly as the house phone rang, reaching it mere seconds before his daughter did.  He offered Arwen a long look as he answered, "Hello?"

"Ah, my dear man," Gandalf said on the other side. "So glad you got the phone on your first try. Tell me, in that book where you keep your truly terrifying number of contacts, do you have many realtors?"

"Gandalf," he arched an eyebrow at the look that feel strangely between relief and disappointment on Arwen's face as she left.  "I believe I may have a few.  Is there a particular sort of building we're looking for?"

"Hm, apartment I think," Gandalf said. "Without people already living in it of course. And probably not too far from where my place is, I'd like to keep my business after all."

"So a full building then, rather than just a rental.  And who will I be putting the realtor in contact with as the buyer?"  He located a pen and paper, jotting down the information and already considering who would be the best people to call in regards to the request.

On the other end of the line, Gandalf seemed to consider. "Why, myself most like," he said. "But no, a rental may be a very bad plan."

"How many floors?"

Gandalf hummed as he considered. "Three or four ought to fit everyone."

There was a long pause as Elrond calculated what he knew of Thorin and his people, "Then I suppose I'll look for five or six."

"You don't trust my estimation?" Gandalf asked, not sounding particularly affronted.

"You are a very good friend to the people you collect around you, you just don't often realize just how many people that is, Gandalf," Elrond responded, his tone fondly amused.

"Well, when you put it that way my dear chap," Gandalf laughed. "Five or six should do."

"Wonderful.  I will make the calls and I will have the information for you by tomorrow night or Monday morning."

"Excellent," Gandalf declared. "Though, tomorrow night may be on the better side, I would like to surprise dear old Thorin before he goes out and does something actively stupider."

"Most people take Sunday's off," Elrond reminded.  "But I shall mention it is a matter of some urgency and see what I can do."  Subtle threats of business difficulties probably wouldn't go amiss either.

"Excellent," Gandalf laughed. "Once again why I always turn to you for such matters."

"Of course.  Now, I had best make those calls before it gets too late."

“Then I shall talk to you soon, my good fellow," Gandalf said. "Try to relax and not kill your children though."

"My children are doing quite well actually, no chaos thus far.  Good evening, Gandalf."

Gandalf hummed as if he fully expected that calm to fall apart without a moment's warning. "Evening then, Elrond."

"Have a good night.  I'll call you once I have the information,"  Elrond hung up and went to fetch his ledger of contact numbers and start going through the realtors on the list who dealt with apartments--buildings not single rentals.

w-w-w

Smaug strolled down the street where Oakenshield's people had lived.  He paused across the street from the burnt-out building, considering it with a slight frown.  His hand curled around the silver dragon that made up the handle of his walking stick.  Having read about the fire in the morning paper, he had been curious about the extent of the damage and was currently ill at ease by the use of fire.  Unfortunately, he could hardly complain much about it.  It felt tacky, though, for someone else to utilize the flames--and he had to admit to himself that he was a bit snarly by the fact that he hadn't been there to witness the red and gold licking up the sides of Thorin's latest abode.

Slinking from the shadows, Azog laughed as he recognized the other. "I at least can be justified coming to admire my own handiwork. Are you just here to look jealous?"

"Actually I was here considering how poorly the flames appear to have caught.  Not that one can access them, but the top floor seems rather unscarred.  Really, it's a poor copy at best.  No forethought in it and poor execution as well," Smaug remarked dismissively.  "They'll know you did it."

"Well of course they do," Azog huffed, shaking his head, pale hair catching the street lights.

"There was no mention of casualties in the paper," the other remarked lazily.

“Well, that wasn't quite the point either," Azog shrugged. "Usually I'd rather see someone when I'm killing them than do it from a distance. The point was fear."

"They'll rebuild.  And their guard will be up as well.  You've made it all ever so much more difficult for the both of us," Smaug's tone was disinterested, but it held a hint of the croon that he used occasionally.  "Have you done anything else stupid in the last week that I should be aware of?"

Azog rolled his eyes. "Ain't stop, is different methods. You're getting a bit old hat you know."

"Works well enough for me.  You take too much pleasure in the kill and not enough in the hunt," Smaug replied, the comment about his methods rolling off his shoulders.  "Though I wonder what made you decide last night was the time to finally stir up the hornets’ nest."

"Because apparently one of them decided to start pinning things on me to the police," Azog said and chuckled darkly. "My money is on the blond nephew."

"He does seem rather more inclined to use routes his uncle would sooner curse to the lowest circle of hell," Smaug agreed.  "So you've had questions from the police then."

"They walked into my very home asking them," Azog said.

"And walked out again unscathed.  Maybe you aren't quite the barbarian I thought you were."

Azog laughed, the sound like rocks grinding together. "No matter how stupid you think I am, I'm not that stupid."

Smaug chuckled, "If you were I can't imagine you surviving very long."  He looked across the street at the fire-scarred building again, remembering the way flames looked licking up the columns of Erebor and the beauty that destruction had been, "Well, I have work to attend to.  And Azog?"

"Yeah, Smaug?" he asked, stressing the use of the other's name.

"If you get in my way, in any capacity, you'll find out that 'old hat' methods are still more than capable of causing immeasurable damage to you and yours," the red-haired man sneered.

Azog blinked at him once and laughed again, sweeping off his hat and making a mocking bow. "Of course, Smaug. How could I possibly forget?"

Rolling his eyes, Smaug inclined his head, a condescending smile on his face, "Good luck staying out of trouble."

"Try not to let anyone steal any of your tricks," Azog called after him.

Smaug chuckled, deep in the back of his throat as he rounded the corner and made his way down the street to where his car waited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, red ties. Information taken from the excellent study, Gay New York: Gender, Urban Culture, and the Making of the Gay Male World, 1890-1940 by George Chauncey. (VS has a truly ridiculous bibliography for this story, you don't even know)


	10. How Honest Do You Want Me to Be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Bilbo and Thorin finally talk and Ori and Faramir bond over books and the fact they're both walking bundles of insecurity.

Legolas was waiting just inside the school doors on Monday morning.  The only thing keeping him from outright pacing was the fact that he would have to then look away from said doors.  He'd been on edge most of the weekend and the ticking of the school clock over his head was reminding him of exactly how little time he'd have to communicate anything once those doors opened for the person he was waiting on.

The doors finally opened to allow Kili and Gimli to enter.  Legolas spared a quick glance for the clock--ten minutes.  He could do this in ten minutes.  He crossed quickly, not saying a word as he grabbed Gimli by the arm and yanked him after him down the hall, around a corner and into an alcove.  Gimli opened his mouth to protest, to swear, to--Legolas didn't really give a damn and spoke before he could, "My father knows."

Gimli gaped at him for a moment, "What?"

"My father, the _police officer_ , knows.  He was at the fire, and saw and heard you return.  He put two and two together and he _knows_."

Kili had followed the pair of them mildly enough, and he told himself, in the interests of not seeing another fight and tilted his head at the hurried argument. "Knows--" he started and looked between them again. "Knows what now?"

Legolas paled very slightly at that and released Gimli, all but shoving the other away.  God damn it to hell.  Gimli looks in Kili's direction with a scowl, "What's it to you?"  The tall blond looked briefly like he wanted to strangle Gimli as that was precisely the wrong thing to say.  Not that he had any better ideas.

Kili looked between them again, and blinked wide eyes in realization. "Oh, you're _kidding_ ," he said finally. "You're joking, come on, for real?"

Legolas grit his teeth and turned to finally look at Kili, "I don't see that it's any of your business, actually."

"Okay, it's probably not," Kili agreed and looked over at Gimli. "Your father is going to kill you entirely dead."

"My father isn't going to find out," Gimli responded.  "Unlike some," he offered Legolas a narrow-eyed look.

"If he's out late we're allowed to meet at the house--as long as the neighbors don't find out," Legolas offered as a peace offering.

Kili choked on air, trying not to react to that statement the way he wished he could.

"Now, if you will excuse me, I need to get to class," Legolas stepped out of the alcove, ignoring the shell-shocked look on Gimli's face and Kili's entire presence.

"Nice talking, as always," Kili said after him under his breath before looking over at Gimli.

Gimli offered his cousin a glance and a gruff, "You got something to say, say it."

"If you're sleeping with him, or at the very least, making out with intent, you should probably stop giving each other black eyes," Kili said and paused a beat. "It makes you more obvious in the long run."

"You didn't catch on until today," Gimli reminded, crossing his arms.

"Yeah, cause I wasn't looking for it," Kili said. "If someone is any sort of connection like that is going to look--" he paused, distracted by another thought. "Wait, all that rolling around on the ground you do..."

"No clue what you're talking about.  He's an arrogant git, which would be why we end up giving each other black eyes every week or so," Gimli answered, shouldering past his cousin.

"Who apparently gave you an invite to come over," Kili pointed out, following him.

"I should probably figure out why we got that offer from his dad in the first place," Gimli muttered.

"It might be a good thing to understand," Kili agreed, tone still mild.

"You're not going to tell anyone, are you?"

That finally seemed to break through Kili's expression and his laughter was almost hysterical. "No," he said, shaking his head. "Why the hell would I?"

"Just making sure," Gimli answered.  "Longer I can avoid Dad knowing the happier I'll be."

"No joke," Kili agreed and looked sideways at the younger. "I'm still worse off than you," he sighed and scampered down the hallway toward his class and away from the other.

"You're what?"  Gimli called after him in shock, but didn't expect an answer as he turned to his own classroom.

w-w-w

"Do you have any idea what Gandalf wants?" Thorin asked, looking over and pulling his coat closer around the late autumn chill. "He was rather vague about the whole thing other than the address."

Balin shook his head, his hands deep in his coat pockets as he looked ahead, "No.  But he left our last conversation with an odd look on his face.  He's planning something."

"He usually is," Thorin said with a small shake of his head. "The question is whether or not we're going to like what he's planning."

"Best to assume not," Balin replied.  "He has good intentions at least.  Usually."

"That's the thing the road to hell is paved in," Thorin said coming around the last corner and wavering for a moment as he looked at the address Gandalf had given him. It was a squat looking building, made up of bricks and it looked oddly like something Thorin might have wanted if not for the splendor of Erebor in his mind. "I'm thinking I won't like this plan," he said finally.

Balin paused, looking at the building, "It might not be a bad option, though.  Depending on what he's offering."

Scowling, Thorin nodded. By the time he stomped up to where Gandalf stood serene under the building's overhang, he looked like an approaching storm cloud. "Gandalf," he said, tone stiff and his eyes slid over, surprised to see Bilbo standing with the taller man.

Balin nodded to Bilbo in greeting, murmuring a quiet hello which the other man returned.  Balin privately thought that Gandalf might well have brought Mr. Baggins along in the hopes of a more peaceable interaction.  He wouldn't put it past him at least.

"Thorin," Gandalf greeted him amiably enough, a grin twinkling in his eyes. "I hope you like it."

"What, the building?" Thorin said, trying to scoff at it and not entirely succeeding.

"Quite," Gandalf said.

Bilbo offered a long blink at that, looking at Gandalf in shock.  He'd been asked along for no reason he could determine and had agreed for just as little reason.  This, however, was even more surprising in his mind. 

Balin glanced from Thorin to Gandalf, "That seems rather extravagant if you don't mind my saying so."

Rolling his shoulders, Gandalf just continued to smile. "You were looking for a building, were you not? Don't worry, I fully expect you to pay me back as your landlord."

"You're joking," Thorin managed and paused. "Besides, you're going to tell me an entirely different price from whatever you paid for this."

"Oh, that's entirely probable too," Gandalf agreed. "However, considering the backing I have, and frankly the somewhat large sums of money that seem to do little more than gather dust in my possession, I can afford more than you. Besides, if the building is bought under a different name, it shan't be such a target." Thorin's face turned stormy again as Gandalf continued. "Of course, people will eventually notice Ereborians walking in and out at all hours, but it won't be so obvious where you're all living. I've been assured there should be ample apartments, even enough to spread out."

Balin tipped his head back to look up at the building--Elrond had found one with six floors--and considered all of that, "Why do this?"

"I like to help friends," Gandalf said.

"Like hell that's it," Thorin snarled.

Gandalf looked over at him with an arched brow. "Then I believe I also still owe you several debts over for services rendered."

"Saving your moronic hide two or three times does not equate a building," Thorin snapped back, hand compulsively brushing his braids back out of his face.

"Then whatever I still owed your father," Gandalf said quietly and when Thorin crossed his arms over his chest, the gesture looked self-defensive.

Bilbo shot Gnadalf a look at that before glancing at Thorin.  Balin hesitated before murmuring to Thorin, "It's a good offer."

For another moment Thorin looked warily at Gandalf who simply shook his head. "Come now," he murmured. "I will let you pay me back if that will make you feel better." He held his hand out and Thorin still looked at it warily. "Come, have we still not proved ourselves to each other? Have we not fought together?"

"You never technically fought," Thorin said but he accepted the hand finally. "Alright, fine. I'll accept whatever you're offering."

"Do you have the keys?" Balin asked, still considering the brick walls of the building.

Gandalf dangled them in front of Thorin's face, earning him another scowl. "Do I want to know how you acquired this so quickly?" he asked, snatching them over.

“It's Gandalf," Bilbo finally spoke.  "It's probably better not to ask."

Thorin glanced over at him again before shaking his head slightly with a smile. "Perhaps not," he agreed, stepping forward to unlock the door and push it open.

Balin followed on Thorin's heels, stepping inside carefully and allowing his gaze to sweep over the entry.  He paused, "Is that a lift?"

Thorin looked sideways and sighed. "Apparently," he said. "Someone will be thrilled."

"It will make some things easier.  I know Nori's been wanting to have one for some time now," Balin replied in an undertone, crossing the foyer warily and running a hand over the banister of the stairs while he considered how sound they likely were.

Without waiting to test the stairs, Thorin stomped up them, fully intending to check each apartment himself before bringing the news back with him. Bilbo moved from where he'd been standing in the doorway.  He glanced at Balin as he passed him, but quietly followed Thorin up the stairs to the second story.

Opening the first doorway, Thorin looked around. "And what brings you here today?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder. "For you do seem to be showing up everywhere."

"Gandalf asked me to accompany him.  I had no idea this was what he was planning," Bilbo answered with a shrug.

Considering him for a moment, Thorin shrugged and back to inspecting the space. "I could almost bet you money," he said closing the door to the second bedroom. "That Fili and Kili will end up here."

Bilbo nearly choked at that, but simply cleared his throat, "Really?  Why?"

"Fili's never been fond of heights," Thorin said. "It might have something to do with falling down too many flights of stairs when he was a child. But it has two rooms, is low to the ground, and near the stairs as they are both horribly curious about things. And," he looked back over the window. "The view isn't so bad."

Considering that, Bilbo nodded very slightly, "What sort of place are you looking for?"

Thorin shrugged. "I am much less particular than my nephews," he said, stepping outside and moving quickly through the next apartment.

Bilbo followed along behind him, "Still, there must be something you're looking for in a place?"

"A place for a bed and a desk," he shrugged. "I have little need of more."

"It's not always a question of bare needs, though." Bilbo protested quietly, "Sometimes it's a question of want."

"And what could a place like this possibly give me what I want?" he asked, turning and stilling for a moment as he looked at the other before taking the steps to the next floor.

"Who knows," came the answer, Bilbo following a step behind him.  "But you can't dismiss the idea that it might have something to give, just because you haven't seen it."

"And what do you suppose a place like this could offer me in terms of a room?" Thorin said, braids swinging as he went up the stairs. "What, Mr. Baggins," he said, turning at the top of the landing. "Do you suppose to think I would want?"

Bilbo stepped onto the landing, still having to look up slightly to meet Thorin's eyes, "I haven't the faintest idea.  Frankly, Mr. Oakenshield, I find myself regularly confused by you."

"Confused?" Thorin arched a brow. "And how then, am I confusing?"

"I find myself as ill-equipped to answer that question now as I was when Fili asked it," he answered.  "It's difficult to explain, and it may have nothing to do with what you do or say."

"When--" Thorin frowned. "Fili asked the question?"

Bilbo grimaced and looked away, stepping off the landing and further down the hall.  He hadn't meant to mention that, "Yes."

Frowning, Thorin stepped after him. "And if it has nothing to do with what I say or do, than what can it possibly have to do with?"

"You throw me off-kilter.  People keep telling me you're doing things out of the ordinary and I don't know why," Bilbo responded, a hint of frustration creeping into his tone as he pushed open the door to the first apartment.

"I'm doing things out of the--?" Thorin started to question and stopped, biting back his own snarl of frustration. "Alright then, why do I throw you off-kilter. It wasn't ever particularly my intention."

Bilbo turned to face him, standing in the center of the main room, "I should dearly hope that wasn't your intention.  I don't know why you throw me off-kilter.  I just know that since meeting you I feel like my world's gone on its head and for the first time in my life I don't think I mind."

Holding himself very still, Thorin tilted his head. "And you don't mind?" he asked, voice careful, trying to figure that out.

The smaller man looked uncertain, confused by the answer he was giving, but he shook his head, "No.  I, I don't.  Not enough to comment on, anyhow."

Thorin frowned slightly, stepping forward but not taking his eyes off the other, tilting them down instead. "And what would make you comment on it?"

Bilbo held his ground, though some part of him wanted to step back, "I honestly don't know.  I haven't yet encountered it."

"So," Thorin said, still trying to figure it out. "I confuse you but you can't tell why, for I... turn your world around and you don't find yourself minding it?"

"That's about the sum of it," Bilbo nodded, wishing he could shed more light on it than that, but not trusting his footing around the other enough to do so.

"That's not much," Thorin said, inching closer again.

Bilbo, who was not known for taking risks before he had come to the city, paused for a long moment before speaking, "No.  No it really is not.  But it's what I have to offer you.  You confuse me because of what others say.  Fili says you smile more, Gandalf says you've never lingered after the others before, and I find I can't get your voice out of my head most days."

"My voice?" Thorin repeated, making a mental note to throttle his nephew and possibly Gandalf as well. He paused. "Do you want to get it out of your head?"

"No," Bilbo answered after a brief moment of consideration.

Hesitating, Thorin briefly touched a curl of Bilbo's hair before dropping his hand entirely. "You are a very fascinating creature," he said. "Most people would have run a long time ago."

Bilbo offered him a wide-eyed, shocked look at the touch, "I'm not much given to running."

"Despite being told what we do," Thorin said. "Despite seeing someone stab me with no obvious provocation. Most people would be in the hills."

"I was more worried about the amount of blood you were losing than the reasons behind it," Bilbo murmured.

"So you were worried about me then."

"Of course I was,” Bilbo protested, sounding offended he would even ask. “Why do you think I insisted on coming with your nephews the next morning?"

Thorin shifted forward again. "Bilbo," he said, hesitating again.

He blinked up at Thorin for a long moment, mouth slightly agape in surprise, struck dumb briefly by hearing his name actually spoken.  Swallowing, he tried to get his mind back onto some sort of coherent track, but found it only barely on one, "Y-yes?"

Resting his hand on Bilbo's hair again, Thorin braced backward slightly as if still entirely prepared to be rebuffed. "What do you want then, Bilbo?"

Bilbo leaned slightly into the touch, Grey eyes still wide, "How honest do you want me to be?"

"Entirely so," Thorin rumbled.

He hesitated for the briefest moment before managing to discard what reservations he had.  Moving one hand to the back of Thorin's head, Bilbo stretched up and pressed a tentative kiss to the other man's lips.

Allowing the hesitation for a moment, Thorin tilted down, his other hand moving to Bilbo's hip as he pushed the kiss deeper. Bilbo made a soft sound in the back of his throat, his hands both moving to the lapels of Thorin's jacket to pull the other man closer.

Drawing back, Thorin hovered near the other's mouth. "Still not running?" he asked, the sound low in his chest.

Grey eyes opening to meet Thorin's gaze, Bilbo shook his head and murmured, "Still not running."

Thorin smiled faintly down at him, smoothing his hand through Bilbo's hair. "Did you finally answer some of your questions?"

Tilting his head into that touch, Bilbo returned the slight smile, "I think I may have, yes."

"Good," Thorin said, kissing Bilbo's temple and trying to keep his hands still.

Bilbo leaned against Thorin for a long moment, not really wanting to move.  He finally sighed, murmuring, "We've left Gandalf and Balin alone for a while.  And Gandalf's likely to pry."

Thorin looked up at the ceiling. "He's not likely to pry at all. I'm fairly certain he's simply going to smirk in our direction and leave it there."

"Alright, that's entirely probable," Bilbo admitted.  "He was keeping track of how frequently I got flustered when your tone dropped."

That got something approaching a smirk out of Thorin. "And was that a high number?" he asked, purposefully dropping his voice.

"He wouldn't say," Bilbo managed, pointedly not looking up at the other at that.  "He simply indicated that it was enough times to show a pattern."

"We should at least look at the other apartments," Thorin said, after another moment of just looking at the other. "In fact, I suspect at this point they're both just waiting around downstairs, gossiping about whether or not we've noticed each other."

"Have we really been that obvious?" he asked, finally convincing himself to step back.

"Balin has known me a very long time," Thorin said. "So to him yes I'm sure at least I have been that obvious. For Gandalf? Everyone seems to be a little obvious to him."

"Is it a good idea to leave them alone together as such?"

Thorin considered and shrugged. "Probably not," he agreed before turning to consider the apartments on the third floor quickly, checking to make sure there was no structural damage or hidden bodies.

"It seems to be a surprisingly sound building considering how quickly it was found," Bilbo murmured, following close on Thorin's heels.

“Indeed," Thorin agreed, really not wanting to think about which contacts Gandalf had used to find it.

Bilbo paused for a moment before speaking, "May I ask what you had been considering as an alternative?"

"Mostly extremely decrepit places near the docks," he replied, shaking his head. "This is a godsend even if I am resent some of it."

"Potentially more secure too," Bilbo murmured, his gaze sweeping around the hall.

"Hopefully," Thorin agreed, pushing open the door to an apartment on the fourth floor and looking around.

"There doesn't seem to be much difference between most of these apartments, except perhaps the exact arrangement of the rooms," Bilbo mused, thinking out loud more than anything.

"And the number," Thorin said, glancing back. "That's not entirely why I'm checking them."

"I assumed as much.  May I ask exactly what you are checking them for?"

"Problems, mostly," he said. "Anything that might cause trouble later. Not to say I don't trust Gandalf," he added. "But it's always better to be safe than sorry."

"It's always better to confirm," Bilbo agreed. 

They entered the first room on the fifth floor and he tilted his head as he considered it.  He crossed to the window of the main room before nodding slightly, "You'll want this one."

Thorin blinked once before joining him at the window. "I will?"

Bilbo nodded again, "From this window you've got a pretty clear view of the main street, and anyone approaching the building."

Humming, Thorin nodded, the hand nearest Bilbo coming up to rest on the back of his neck. "That's true," he agreed. "It's a good vantage point."

Bilbo tilted his head back to rest against Thorin's shoulder, "It's also not an easy angle to shoot into."

"Did you always think this way or have we gone far toward corrupting you?" Thorin asked, sounding amused.

"I didn't used to think this way quite so much as I do now.  My uncle on my mother's side taught me as much as he could about defensible positions though until my father cottoned on," Bilbo answered, a faint smile on his lips.

"That was wise of him," Thorin said, drawing Bilbo away from the window to press their mouths together again, hand still on the back of his neck. Breath catching at that, Bilbo pressed up into the kiss, one hand moving to rest on Thorin's shoulder to help him balance.

"If you still intend to come to dinner with my sister, things may be more interesting now," Thorin remarked, tilting down to kiss Bilbo's jaw.

"I was still planning on that, yes," Bilbo murmured, tipping his head back slightly to allow Thorin better access.

"Good," Thorin rumbled, hands resting on Bilbo's hips. He hesitated, mouth still against his throat. "You do realize--this isn't a particularly smart idea right?"

"Oh I'm well aware of how very little the term intelligent can be applied here," the smaller man assured.

"I'm old enough to be your father, first of all," Thorin said, tilting his head to press a kiss to the other side of Bilbo's throat.

"My father's got another ten years on you at least," Bilbo managed, though his breath hitched at the touch.

Thorin laughed, the sound rumbling in his chest. "I'm not sure I can say that's reassuring." Fingers still curled around the other's waist he drew back enough to seal their mouths together, pressing opened mouthed against the other.

Anything Bilbo might have said, fled from his mind at that and he leaned up into the kiss, his lips parting under Thorin's and his arms moving up behind the other man's neck. Licking his way inside, Thorin couldn't recall whatever else he was going to say, trying to resist the urge to back Bilbo up against a wall and pin him there.

Moaning into the kiss, Bilbo knew there was a reason they really ought to stop.  He was pretty certain there were in fact several, but he couldn't seem to recall any at the moment.

It took a lot of convincing before Thorin drew back, resting their foreheads together. "One more floor," he murmured. "Then Gandalf and Balin are downstairs."

Bilbo swallowed hard, nodding, his pupils blown wide even as he reminded himself that the fact that Gandalf and Balin were downstairs was important, "Right.  One more floor."

"We could hardly do more in an empty building," Thorin said, well aware that his words were not entirely true but trying to convince himself of them anyway. "At the very least, I'd rather have more amenities."

Accepting that, Bilbo nodded again, drew a deep breath and kissed Thorin again--briefly this time--before stepping back, "We, we had better see to that last floor."

Thorin paid distressingly little attention to the last floor, more focused on seeing how many soft kisses would bring that glazed look back to the other's eyes before he finally managed to poke his head into every room and start back down the stairs.

Bilbo did his best to at least appear unruffled as they started down the last flight of stairs, but he had a feeling it was futile and that there were cracks in that facade.  Balin looked up at them from where he'd been talking to Gandalf.  He shook his head slightly and met Thorin's eyes, "I hope you realize Dwalin is going to have a fit."

Thorin shrugged slightly. "He often does."

That earned a soft chuckle from Balin, "Aye, I just thought I would remind you."

"How very kind," Thorin rumbled, glancing at Gandalf who only smiled back at him.

Bilbo felt his cheeks heat ever so slightly as Balin glanced at him, but he looked toward Gandalf, raising his eyebrows a bit.

Balin cleared his throat, "What do you think of the building, Thorin?"

"It's sturdy, and there seems to be enough room," Thorin said, eying Gandalf as if he knew the other wasn't responsible for that. "Are there keys for the different apartments?"

Gandalf nodded. "Yes, I shall deliver those to you, and once you start buying beds you should all be able to move in quickly enough." Bilbo choked on the breath he'd been in the process of taking.  He knew there as a practical reasoning behind that statement, but the idea of beds and Thorin in any context at the moment was derailing his thoughts.

Glancing over, Thorin arched a brow and tried not to smirk at that, even as Gandalf shook his head slightly.

Catching his breath again, Bilbo offered all three of them long looks.  Balin shook his head, "Well, this has been informative."

Leveling his advisor with a long look, Thorin shrugged. "We should tell the others," he said and glanced back at Bilbo. "Though now you really should come over for dinner."

"As soon as you're all settled," Bilbo promised with a slight smile.

Thorin nodded, looking back to Balin even as he ran a hand along Bilbo's spine where the other's couldn't see. "Shall we go?"

Balin nodded, "I think we shall, yes."

Careful not to react to the touch on his back, Bilbo inclined his head to them, "It was good to see you both.  Gandalf, isn't the restaurant due to open for dinner shortly?"

"I believe it is," Gandalf agreed with another twinkle in his eyes.

Bilbo stepped away from Thorin finally, starting for the door, "Well, since I'm supposed to be on the clock then, I guess I should probably accompany you back then."

"Quite," Gandalf agreed, winking at Thorin as he followed Bilbo, getting a dark look after him.

Balin watched them go, "Well, he's a nice enough lad."

Thorin hummed. "Is that all you think about it?" he asked, readjusting the heavy braids around his face.

"I'm not sure how wise it is to get involved with him, but I know you well enough to at least hope you've weighed the risks.  He's also done well by us thus far," Balin responded.

"Well, at least you bother to have the faith that I might have considered it," Thorin said and shook his head slightly. "But I have. Even my sister commented on him."

"And what does she say?"

"Mostly she was just wondering why he was always around," Thorin said, huffing out a breath. "There's finally an answer to that."

"I suppose there is.  Are you going to tell her?"

Eyes sliding over, Thorin considered him. "You're assuming I will have to. The moment he comes into her sight again, I'm sure she'll know. It would be more polite to tell her though, wouldn't it?"

Balin smiled slightly at that and nodded, "It probably would be nice of you to let her know ahead of time, yes."

"Perhaps so," Thorin mused, stepping out of the building and locking the door after them, craning his neck back to consider it again.

Balin looked up at the brick facade, "No obvious problems with the building, then?"

"No," Thorin shook his head. "Gandalf and whoever he was working with did an excellent job."

"Do you have any idea who he would have asked to help him with this?"

"I'm trying not to," he sighed. "Because I have a good idea about who it was and an even better one that I won't like it."

"Well, regardless, we have a building.  We only need some furniture, and it's livable even without that."

Thorin laughed. "You would have us camp out on the floor, perhaps?" he said. "When we tell the others, we can perhaps move in tonight with bedrolls and sheets and see about getting furniture over the next several weeks. Each family can look for what they like, there surely must be enough furniture stores in this city to accommodate."

"Camping on our own floors is better than paying for the beds of people who would rather we didn't exist," Balin responded.  "There are certainly enough furniture stores, and antique shops around.  It means less time with the risk of us being cut off from one another."

Considering, Thorin nodded. "It will make Dwalin feel better," he agreed. "Come, we shall tell them then."

w-w-w

Ori poked his head out of the bedroom he'd claimed. "Dori?" he called, looking for his brother and not finding him, heading down to the lobby. Since they'd been given the keys a few days ago, most of his time not at school was looking for furniture, but with a little money set aside he was getting desperate to own books or art supplies again.

Bofur was perched in the new lobby, he hadn't yet found much in the way of furniture for his apartment, though he had a couch that was just about the perfect fit--he'd give it two weeks and hopefully it would be broken in enough to truly be comfortable to sleep on.  His arm was still in a sling half the time to keep him from using his left arm too much.  He glanced up as Ori came down the stairs, offering the other a bit of a wave, "Hello, Ori."

"Bofur," Ori greeted, face brightening slightly. "How are you feeling?"

"Better every day," he answered with a grin.  "Might even finally be able to get rid of the sling in a week or so."

"I'm glad," Ori said. "Have you... have you managed to find much furniture yet?" It felt like an odd question, but one that had been on many people's mouths lately.

Bofur shrugged his right shoulder, "Not really.  I mean I have a couple of the most needed pieces, but not really much."

Nodding, Ori looked around again, settling his eyes finally back on Bofur. "I wanted to go out," he said. "Find... books at the very least, but Dori would die if I went out alone."

Bofur rose at that, "I was getting rather bored sitting here, if you wouldn't mind me coming out with you."

"Please," Ori said, trying not to sound too relieved.

Grinning again, Bofur nodded, "Let me go grab my coat and we can go."

"Thank you," he said, watching him move.

Nodding slightly, Bofur turned and hurried up the stairs, ducking into his apartment on the third floor long enough to grab his overcoat and returning to the lobby.

"You don't have to come," Ori said, having worried in the short amount of time Bofur was gone. "I mean, I--I'd like it but don't feel like you must."

That earned him a long blink and a shake of Bofur's head, "If I minded I would have said so.  I want to."

"Alright then," Ori said, flashing him a smile before turning to the door.

Bofur offered him another grin as they stepped out of the building, "So, where shall we go first?"

"I would possibly do someone bodily harm to get my hands on a book again," Ori said and flushed. "If you don't mind a bookstore."

"Bodily harm, eh?"  Bofur glanced at him, grin widening, "Do you have a preference of bookstores?  I can think of a couple nearby--not that I go into them much, mind."

He shook his head. "Well, I'd go the route of saying I'd kill someone for something but in our lives..." he paused. "It'd be a rather literal threat, wouldn't it? And I don't much care, so long as there's books, I don't actually know that many around here."

Bofur considered that and then nodded, "Then I think I know just the place.  It's three blocks over and two down, I think.  I'm still not quite used to where the building is."

Smiling, Ori glanced back over his shoulder to consider the facade. "But we'll get used to it in time, right? Besides, I think it's a nicer place."

"We'll get used to it, aye," Bofur agreed, he just hoped it would be sooner than any of them had to get back to it in a hurry.  His directions for backstreets all tended to cumulate at the old building still.  "And it certainly does seem nicer.  Sturdier in some ways."

"It's nice," Ori said and looked at him sideways. "I think Gloin's been muttering about it throwing off his calculations though."

"His calculations?"  Bofur arched an eyebrow, turning down the street toward the bookstore.

"You know, angles, where things are, good firing positions, how to get back," Ori shrugged.

The brunet nodded at that, "Right, those ones.  It's odd to have to relearn all those things, honestly.  Though I think I've nearly gotten the ways back reworked."

"I'm glad," Ori said and shook his head. "It's odd, isn't it? To lose everything like that. I'm not sure I've gotten used to it still."

Bofur nodded again, it wasn't the first time that had happened to him, but he did rather regret losing a couple of items--namely the blanket, "It takes some adjusting.  Some reworking, and re-gathering of things.  Rebuilding in all the ways that really matter."

"That's wise," Ori said and paused. "I should see if I can find that tea Dori likes so much."

"Do you know where he gets it?" Bofur asked, ignoring the initial comment.

"There's a little shop," Ori said and considered. "It's between us and the school I think."

"Then we'll have to stop by there, too, before we head home." Bofur offered him a smile as he pushed open the door to the bookshop.

"If you're alright with that," Ori said, feeling nervous still, suddenly realizing he hadn't been alone with the other since he woke up twined around him. Blushing slightly, he stepped into the bookstore and felt himself calm slightly just at the smell of the books.

"I'm alright with that," Bofur assured, looking around and considering the bookstore as a whole.  He quickly categorized the routes in and out and the best places to find cover should it come to it.

"Thank you," Ori repeated, already distracted by the books again, diving down through the shelves.

Bofur couldn't help but smile, trailing along after Ori and keeping an eye open for any trouble at the same time.

Seeing a particular history, Ori bent down to pull it off the shelf, opening it to browse the pages and reading the table of contents.

Bofur leaned against the shelves very slightly, watching Ori with a quiet smile.  HIs gaze darted up at the sound of approaching footsteps, tensing he watched as the young man from Gandalf's restaurant appeared around the end of the shelves.

At the sound of movement, Ori glanced up, a smile blooming across his face when he saw Faramir. Faramir blinked a couple of times before smiling brightly, "Ori, what a pleasant surprise to see you."

"It's good to see you too," Ori said. "What sort of thing are you looking for?"

"Nothing particular in mind, today, actually," Faramir admitted.  In all honesty, he'd seen his father further up the street and dodge into the store--considering the books a safe haven and knowing it to have enough to occupy him long past the time Denethor should have left.

Ori was about to say something before he glanced back at Bofur. "Oh, have you two met?"

Bofur had been watching Faramir warily since the other had shown up, but he shook his head, "No I don't think so."

"Bofur, this is Faramir," he said, pointing between them. "And Faramir this is Bofur. I met Faramir in, well, one of my classes because we were the ones with noses in our books," he said and realized he had no idea what he could introduce Bofur as. They weren't even really cousins.

Faramir offered a hesitant smile at that and offered his hand after a brief moment, "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Bofur shook his hand firmly, "You as well.  When did you meet?"

"It's been a couple years," Ori said, fingers twisting along the leather cover of the book he held.

"High school," Faramir clarified.  "I'm a junior this year."

Bofur nodded, glancing at Ori and then back at Faramir, "Like I said, it's good to meet you."

Faramir nodded, sparing a glance toward the front door of the store without being fully conscious of doing so. "Are you alright?" Ori asked, watching Faramir look at the door and not entirely sure why he felt like running around to the other aisle.

He nodded, "Absolutely."  He paled very slightly as he caught sight of someone through the window, "I'll be in the horticulture section if you need me."  He knew this bookstore intimately and horticulture was as far from the door as he could possibly get.

Ori blinked after him and looked at the door again, peering out the window. "Oh," he said, seeing what looked like Denethor's profile before deciding horticulture might actually be an interesting subject and following Faramir out of the history.

Bofur glanced toward the window in confusion, but followed the two others, on edge without knowing exactly why.

"Hey, Faramir," Ori said, as he came to a stop and considered a particularly gorgeous illustrated manuscript of herbs. "How are you and Boromir doing, living on your own now?"

"We've been doing pretty well, all told.  We're both still making it through school, Boromir's working when not in class, and so am I frankly.  I do a little bit of serving at Gandalf's, and I keep track of his books.  It pays the rent and all," Faramir pulled down a book on rare trees, skimming through it and paying far more attention to the pictures than was strictly necessary.

Putting the book back after seeing the price, Ori nodded. "I'm glad. It seemed a bit mad last year with trying to get out."

Faramir nodded, finally putting the book back on the shelf, "That, Ori, might be the understatement of the year.  But we did it, thank God."

"That you did it is what matters," Ori said, "And that it cannot be undone."

"Don't get me wrong, I don't regret it in the least," Faramir said, glancing at Ori as he picked up another book. "I just wish it had mattered a little more that we _both_ left." He caught Bofur's look of confusion, but had no desire to explain.

"But if it had, you wouldn't have had to leave," Ori pointed out.

"Maybe you're right," he replaced the book without having opened it.  "He's probably gone by now."

"So that was him then?" Ori asked, folding the book he'd been fiddling with too, the history still tucked up under one arm.

Faramir nodded, hand resting against the spine of the book in front of him, "I saw him further up the road before I came in here."

"I'm sorry," Ori said and realized how useless those words really were. "I wish I could have lent you that book, like I wanted."

"Don't worry about it," Faramir replied.  "There will be other books.  I have a few if you would like to borrow them while you're getting your own library re-built."

Ori's smile was nearly blinding. "Thank you," he said, so sincere about the thought of books it almost hurt.

"I can get them to you in the next few days somehow?"  Faramir offered.

"Only if you have the time and aren't working," Ori said, pulling at the bottom of his knit sweater. "I couldn't impose."

"I've got time," Faramir assured him.

"Then thank you, that would be lovely," Ori said, eyes sliding back to Bofur.

Bofur was watching the two, Ori more than Faramir, smiling a bit at how happy Ori was at the thought of books.  Faramir nodded slightly, "Well, I should probably get going.  I'll see you soon, Ori.  It was good to meet you, Bofur."

“Do you have the new address?" Ori asked, snapping his eyes away from Bofur.

"I," Faramir considered, trying to remember before smiling sheepishly, "No, I don't think I do."

Ori considered, opened his mouth and frowned. "I know the general direction," he said finally. "But, I don't remember the address..."

"1736 19th Street," Bofur rattled off.

Eyes widening, Ori looked over at him with a grin. "Thank you," he said, tone warm.

Bofur grinned at him, nodding, "You're welcome."

Faramir inclined his head, "Then I'll have those books to you tomorrow afternoon sometime."

"Thank you, truly," Ori said again before considering the book he still held and its price versus the tea for Dori. Farmir nodded again before slipping away, hoping his father had actually left the area so he could leave safely.

Faramir stepped out of the shop, his head down and turned in the direction his father had been coming from.  He side-stepped to pass a person in front of him, but flinched when a familiar voice met his ears, "You.  What do you think you're doing here?"

Drawing a deep breath, he managed to bring his gaze up to glance at his father's face, "Hello, Father."

"I asked you a question, boy,” Denethor said, eyes narrowed.

"I was out looking for books, sir.  That's all."

"Wasteful as always," Denethor responded, frowning severely.

Faramir shook his head before he thought about it, his voice muted, "Books aren't a waste.  Knowledge isn't."

"Spending the money that your brother, who you took from me, works hard to earn?  Wasteful and thoughtless,” Denethor muttered, shaking his head in a sorrowful gesture.

Having started paying for the book, at the sight of the two talking, Ori had dropped the money quickly on the counter and bolted out. Moving quickly, Ori came to a stop next to Faramir. "Come on," he said, tugging on his elbow. "We need to go, you know, to do that thing."

Faramir startled at the touch, instinctively pulling his elbow away.  Denethor's gaze shifted to Ori, "Fraternizing with these, too?  You bring more shame upon my name than I had previously thought."

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Sir," Ori said, tilting his chin back slightly and deciding that Thorin was more terrifying with one look than Denethor could manage with an hour of growling. "But we really must go."

emerged at that moment, Ori's book in his hands, having paid for it and slipped Ori's money into the front cover.  He paused as he took in the scene and frowned slightly, "Ori," another glance and he added a second name, "Faramir, are we set to go?"

Denethor's look was dark, but Faramir nodded slightly, "We were...were just waiting for you."

Ori looked from the book to Bofur and felt his smile growing before he remembered Denethor standing there. "If you'll excuse us," he said softly, looking around the street.

Denethor finally shook his head, muttering something about not being worth the time, and turned to leave.  Faramir felt his shoulders relax very slightly, but he didn't quite raise his eyes to look at either of the two remaining.

"Come on," Ori said softly, tugging his elbow again. "Walk with us a while at the very least."

Faramir startled slightly again, but nodded and murmured, "I should be getting home soon, though."

"Then we'll get you home," Ori said. "But come first."

Bofur stepped up next to them, handing Ori the book, "You don't even have to come along for very long."

Offering a hesitant smile at that, Faramir finally nodded, "Alright.  I suppose I can do that."

"Thank you," Ori said, looking up at Bofur with a warm smile. "I might have forgotten it there.”

"You had more important things to worry about," Bofur answered, returning the smile.

"Still," Ori said, stepping down the street toward the tea shop and cradling the book against his chest as he glanced at Faramir. "Are you alright?"

Faramir nodded once, briskly, "I'm fine.  It's hardly the worst I've heard."

"I think it's more the general reaction to seeing someone you'd rather avoid," Ori murmured.

"It's..." he drew a deep breath, "It's not that I want to avoid him, necessarily."

Ori frowned before he seemed to understand. "But you would rather have him be happy to see you?"

Faramir nodded after a moment, "Perhaps that's foolish of me.  Since I know better than to expect that."

"It'd be a hard dream to give up," Ori said, fingering the cover of the book he still held up to his chest.

"Definition of insanity, though," Faramir responded.

"I don't think wanting love is insanity," Ori murmured. "Even if it's unlikely."

"Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result?"  Faramir glanced at him, "I'll be alright, Ori."

"If you're certain," he said, looking down.

Faramir paused before clapping a hand on Ori's shoulder and managing a passably bright smile, "I always am."

Ori's smile was a bit rueful. "If you say so."

Bofur glanced over at Faramir and then back to Ori, "So, we were going to find tea next, right?"

"Yeah," Ori nodded. "Do you wanna come, Faramir? I know you need to get home, but if you want to..."

Faramir shook his head, offering another smile, "I think I'll pass--Boromir and I don't make much use of tea.  I'll be by soon, though."

"I'll look forward to it."

Nodding again, Faramir offered them a nod and left.  Bofur watched him go, glancing at Ori, "So that was his father?"

“That was his father," Ori nodded. "And a rather mild encounter."

Bofur shook his head, "But he doesn't live with the man any longer, right?"

"No," he shook his head emphatically. "He and his brother left. Their father is actually rather fond of the elder but, the two of them couldn't much bear it."

"Is he really going to be alright, or was he just lying in the hope that it would make you feel better?"

"Oh, he was lying," Ori said, looking at the windows of the shops they were passing. "He'll never really... be fine I suppose when it comes to his father. But he has his brother, and they'll muddle on as they do."

"May luck go with them, in that case," Bofur murmured.

Glancing over, Ori swallowed. "Thank you for the book," he said, realizing he hadn't thought a day out with Bofur entirely through. "Or at least remembering it."

"You're welcome," Bofur replied with a bit of a grin and rolled his good shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone who's commented on this story: Thank you so much you have no idea how much this means to your authors. 
> 
> But Meadow has been sick all week, and we're about to hit the really stressful part of the quarter which VS will probably not emerge from alive, considering the amount of commitments she has. As this is a rather long story, we'd both really love to hear what people think of it. We've been spending a lot of time writing it (and cleaning it up and editing and posting it) so if you're enjoying it, please do drop us a line. We give comments good homes and frankly, we love to chatter on about our stories and ideas and why certain characters react in certain ways and how we've translated from cannon to the AU so seriously, if you have questions those are accepted too. 
> 
> And just a huge thank you to everyone who's read this story and given us kudos or bookmarks! Every sort of feedback is lovely! (We're just authors and really treasure words especially.)


	11. You Could Go Home and Wait

"Hey Fili," Kili said, drawing back from the kiss enough to press one to his brother's jaw, curling his spine to lean down.

"Hm?" Fili hummed from where he had his hands wrapped around Kili's waist. They were sitting on his bed, Kili straddling his waist as they continued to celebrate having a closed door again, as they had been all week.

"It's my birthday soon," Kili said, fingers curling up in Fili's hair and tugging his head back gently to expose his throat, Fili going willingly and Kili could feel his laugh from where his mouth was pressed against his throat.

Tilting his head further back, Fili tightened his grip on Kili's hips. "And are you hinting at something?"

"No!" Kili said, smacking the small of his back and pausing. "Well, if you like. But I'll be eighteen."

Fili stopped for a long moment, dropping his chin back down to meet Kili's eyes. "So instead of being triplely morally and legally wrong, it will only be doublely so?"

Wrinkling his nose, Kili scowled at him. "It means the only thing we can change will be changed."

"You're still my brother," Fili said, tracing his fingers down Kili's spine. "And we're still both men. No society will accept us, no matter your age."

"But it will be changed," Kili said, kissing Fili's ear. "We'll at least have that."

Humming instead of protesting again how much it didn't matter, Fili turned his head to catch Kili's mouth, hands coming up to thread through his hair.

"Do you think we have to go?" Kili asked when Fili pulled back.

"Are you mad?" Fili laughed, trailing a hand down his spine again as he looked at the clock and swore. "We're already late, Thorin is already like to be furious. We should go, the others will likely already be at the restaurant."

"I'd rather be here with you," Kili said, rolling his hips down and Fili's eyes went unfocused for a moment before he shoved Kili, laughing, off his lap.

"Later," he promised. "For now, food and generally good cheer. Come along."

Still mumbling something about rather staying in, Kili followed his brother down the stairs and out the door, pushing his hair back over his shoulder.

Bolg was stalking through the shadows in the area that the Ereborians most often walked through at a given time.  His eyes darted about and he flexed his hands, readjusting the studded gloves he wore.  He was hunting--they had received the message about their building, but had simply readjusted their situation.  A death, however, might actually cause a greater response.

As they walked, Kili almost tripped Fili. "Brother," he said, shaking his head and laughing. "Stop it, we're still late and the later we are the more trouble we'll be in."

Bolg's face split into a cruel grin as he heard their voices, they were too good to pass up.  He approached behind them, speaking as he shoved Kili into a wall to one side, "I'd say you're already in more trouble than you can handle."

Whirling around at the sound of another's voice and Kili's cut off cry, Fili fumbled the gun he had in his coat out, shock making his motions jerky. "Let him go."

Yanking Kili back, Bolg placed the teen between himself and Fili, "You really want to try that shot?"

Fili froze for too long a moment even as Kili snarled and kicked his feet backward. Bolg growled, giving Kili a shake at that as he advanced on Fili, still utilizing the younger as a shield, "I was hoping to find one of you people alone, but the two of you together is so much better."

"Really?" Fili managed, frowning when Kili continued to struggle before Kili twisted himself as far to one side as he could manage and Fili took a shot at Bolg's leg, hoping to take his kneecap out.

He missed the kneecap, Bolg moving with Kili's twist and causing the bullet to graze his thigh instead.  He threw Kili aside and lunged, before Fili could fire again.  Grabbing Fili's gun hand he twisted the arm up, so that the gun was pointed elsewhere, "The two of you turning up dead will do a hell of a lot more than some random Ereborian."

Hissing, Fili kicking his leg out, hitting where he'd grazed the other as his other hand fumbled for his knife. Bolg swore, his leg shaking but not quite buckling.  He finally wrenched the gun from the blond and threw it away from all three of them.  He beat Fili to the knife, pulling it out and smiling wickedly, "I guess the question is how much time I take on each of you."

"You still have to kill us first," Fili said, Kili throwing himself on Bolg's back and shoving one knee into his kidney.

Bolg snarled, releasing Fili and stumbling away from them with the pain that was lancing through him.  He took a swing at Kili, his gloves acting like brass knuckles as they connected with the teen--he heard a rib crack.

Gasping, Kili curled over his side, one hand bracing his ribs as Fili whipped out another of his knives, trying to drive the advantage and get the knife up under Bolg's guard.

Bolg countered the knife, avoiding it and slashing out with the one he'd stolen. Fili ducked, the knife slashing his cheek and he threw himself at Bolg's knees as Kili struggled back up to his feet.

Bolg kicked out, hard, catching Fili in the side as he dove.  Turning, he landed another blow to Kili's gut and caught his arm, twisting it sharply he heard a satisfying snap of bone.  He slammed Kili, hard, against the brick wall, stunning the younger of the two brothers, before turning to the elder.

Having stumbled to the side, out of breath, Fili let out a roar when he saw Kili crumple against the wall. "Kili! You son of a bitch," he snarled, scrambling his hand out for his knife that he'd dropped in the shock of having all the breath left in him expelled.

Laughing, Bolg advanced on Fili, the knife he'd taken held at the ready as he slashed out with it again, aiming to hurt rather than kill.

Fili snarled when the knife caught him on the cheek, the downward slash almost ending at his throat. He wished he had both of his knives in his hands, feeling unbalanced with only one blade and he dropped his shoulder to slam it toward the taller's stomach.

Bolg doubled over, winded as Fili's shoulder connected with his diaphragm.  Without giving himself time to fully catch his breath, he came back up, stabbing forward with the knife and swinging a punch with his other hand at the same time.

Fili stumbled back, the knife tearing though his shirt and grazing his side and the punch slamming his back into the wall. Chuckling, the larger man pressed his advantage, advancing and slicing out with the knife, aiming for Fili's stomach. Fili blocked the blade with his wrist, hissing as it was cut open, kicking out again and trying to roll away along the wall.

Bolg stumbled back when Fili managed to connect with the graze on his leg.  He growled and caught Fili by the front of his shirt, yanking him forward to allow him a closer proximity to use the knife.

Cursing and snarling, Fili wished the other man didn't have so much height on him, trying to use the knife he still had to slash at the other's face.

Bolg released Fili's shirt, to grab his wrist, putting pressure on it without the intent to break it--just to see if he could get him to drop that knife. He used Fili's other knife to slice across the smaller man's collarbone, though not deep enough to hit anything vital.

Crying out, Fili didn't drop the knife, struggling to get his hand out of Bolg's hold. Slamming Fili's hand back against the wall, while never letting up on the pressure, Bolg's lips curled into a vicious smile.

Fili snarled, trying not to cry out again as he dropped the knife, his fingers refusing to listen to his commands anymore. "You bastard, son of a whore," he growled, other hand coming up to try and dig into Bolg's collarbone and throat.

The comment slid right past with a growl and a "Both true," response as Bolg angled the knife he held and pressed it against Fili's throat enough to draw a small line of blood.

Fili froze, shoulders tensing. "Are you really intending to kill me with my own weapon?" he tried to snarl, the question falling flat and sounding more afraid than he'd meant it to.

Bolg grinned, "I like that idea.  And then I'll take that little brother of yours apart with it too."

Eyes widening, Fili tried to kick out again, fingers aiming for Bolg's eyes. Bolg tilted his head back, pressed the knife a bit harder and dug the fingers of his free hand into the cut in Fili's side.

Fili roared in dull pain as he tried to twist away, failing out with any limb he still had free. Lightening the pressure from the knife, Bolg slammed Fili harder against the wall, hoping to stun him a bit before he slid the knife to slice at Fili's hand.

Fili's eyes slid over, aware of how dangerous it was to let himself get distracted, looking desperately for Kili anyway. Only his brother wasn't where Bolg had last tossed him and even as he tried to bit back his scream a shot rang out, hitting Bolg in the side.

Bolg snarled, stumbling back away from Fili, though the knife slashed out at him once more.  He turned in the direction of the gunshot and found himself staring at Kili.  Growling again, he started toward the younger man, trying to ignore the way the blood was flowing from the wound in his side and the graze on his leg.

Hand shaking, Kili brought the gun up again, cursing how different it was from shooting the bow. Aiming the shot at Bolg's forehead, hoping to stop him in his tracks, only instead of hitting the other between the eyes the shot went through one of Bolg's eyes and Kili almost dropped the gun in shock and horror.

Panting against the wall still, Fili dropped to his knees. Breathing deeply he gathered up his knives, prying one out of Bolg's hands. "Brother," he said, looking at where Kili was staring wide eyed at where Bolg had dropped, gun still shaking in his hand.

"I," Kili said and bent over, gagging and Fili scrambled to his side, covering his mouth.

"No, don't be sick here, not here," he said quickly, tugging and pulling until he got them both standing. "Come on," he said, and they supported each other as they weaved their way back to the building, stumbling up the stairs.

Once inside, the door slammed and locked, Fili allowed Kili to sag over the toilet, being thoroughly sick. "Kili, Kili," he said, trying to smooth his hair back as Kili rose, staggering back to the kitchen.

"I'm sorry," Kili said, eyes wide on his face as he looked Fili over in the lighting instead of the dark alley and his breath caught. "Fili," he said, voice watery as he reached out and Fili folded against him, ignoring Kili's indrawn breath and his own pain. "God, Fili."

"We're alright," Fili said, not thinking about how close that came to not being true. "We're alright," he said again, smoothing his fingers over Kili's cheeks and nearly gagging himself at the smear of blood that left behind.

Kili pitched forward, slamming their mouths together and not caring that Fili's mouth was filled with blood from where he'd been hit earlier. Trying to chase the taste out of Fili's mouth, Kili drew back when breathing became too hard. "Fili," he said again, high pitched.

"We're alright," Fili said again and hesitated, before shaking fingers started working through a herringbone braid behind Kili's left ear. "We're alright."

Sagging forward against his brother's chest, Kili didn't protest the braid, burying his face in Fili's collarbone as the other hissed in brief pain.

w-w-w

Bilbo saw Thorin and company enter, and got their usual appetizer orders placed, slipping out of the kitchen to double check on drinks and pausing when he saw Fili and Kili's places empty.  He shook it off, figuring they were just running a couple of minutes late and offered Thorin a smile, "Good evening."

"Good evening," Thorin said, voice dropping slightly before he could think about it and stop it.

Blinking slightly at that, Bilbo glanced down the table, scribbling down typical drink orders to revise as he made his way along, "How have you been?"

"Things have been well," Thorin said, mildly enough as he glanced around with a frown when Fili and Kili were still not there.

Bilbo glanced at the empty chairs again, "Do you want me to hold off on placing the dinner order until they arrive?  I was going to get it in with a bit of delay."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Thorin said, frowning at the chairs before tilting his head back up to Bilbo with a faint smile.

Returning the smile, Bilbo nodded slightly, "Is there anything I can get you?"

"Coffee, if you might," he said, tapping his fingers against the wooden table.

Nodding once, Bilbo stepped away, checking briefly with everyone else and slipping away to get the drinks.  He returned shortly, doling them out and stopping by Thorin's chair, setting the coffee down by the other's hand, "Perhaps they just lost track of time."

"As is likely with them," Thorin agreed, still looking more and more concerned before he checked his watch again. Dwalin was eying Thorin and Bilbo sideways with a slight frown of his own.

Bilbo slipped back into the kitchen after a few minutes.  Balin watching him go before he glanced at Dwalin and then at Thorin.  They'd been there for nearly a quarter of an hour and there was still no sight or sound of Fili and Kili.

"Where do you think they got themselves to?" Dwalin asked under his breath and the line of Thorin's mouth tightened again.

"It's only been fifteen minutes," he said, looking down the table, counting everyone else there. The fact that Fili and Kili were usually earlier just made him feel tenser though.

"Did anyone see them before we left?" Balin asked, mutedly, his gaze drifting toward the rest of the company.

There were several heads shaking and murmured nos as those further down the table finally realized that Fili and Kili weren't there yet.

"We could send someone to check for them," Balin suggested to Thorin quietly."

"And who would you suggest sending alone?" Thorin asked.

"I wasn't suggesting alone," came the response as he glanced down the table again and tried to figure out if there was anyone he would consider sending and finally shaking his head.

"A few more minutes," Thorin said, Dwalin eying where Bilbo had disappeared to again.

Bilbo returned, setting the appetizers down quietly and glancing from the clock to Fili and Kili's empty places.  He paused by Thorin again, "How long are you giving them?"

"They had better be in trouble," Thorin said, pausing another beat before standing abruptly and stalking toward the door.

Balin paused for the briefest of moments before rising and following Thorin.  Bilbo watched them go, the others at the table leaving as well, and seriously considering asking Gandalf for the night off to make certain everything was alright.

Gandalf poked his head out of the kitchen in alarm. "What did you say to them?" he asked.

"I asked Thorin how long he...how long he was going to wait before finding out where his nephews were."  His gaze remained fixed on the front door, "Fili and Kili never arrived."

Gandalf paused, looking alarmed before glancing back at Bilbo. "And you're intentions are what?"

"I...I'm not sure yet. I'll be absolutely useless to them if there is trouble, but I would like to know if Fili and Kili are alright."

“If they do come back for dinner, I expect you to come with them," Gandalf said after a pause, leveling a finger at Bilbo. "Otherwise, I would like to know as well how those two fare."

Bilbo finally drew his gaze away from the door to blink at Gandalf, "So I can go, then?  Under the condition that I return if they do."

"Yes," Gandalf nodded. "I'll expect to hear something though."

"I'll be sure to let you know as soon as possible," Bilbo promised, already ducking past him to grab his coat from the back.

Gandalf nodded, watching him go with a long look at the door, expression heavy with possible fear.

w-w-w

Thundering up the stairs, Thorin came to a halt in front of the doorway to where Fili and Kili had moved in exactly where he had predicted, at the beginning of the week. He pounded on the door. "Fili, Kili! Are you in there?"

There was a pause as the rest of the dinner party filed up the stairs behind Thorin, several children and women peeking their heads over the staircase in surprise that the men were home so early. "Yes," a quiet voice said finally and Thorin nearly sagged in relief even as he felt fury in his gut.

Trying to open the door he paused when he found it locked. "Can I come in?" he asked, figuring they had just lost track of time and his concern was for nothing.

Balin stopped a few paces behind Thorin, glancing toward the stairs leading up to the next floor as Dis started to descend.

There was an even longer pause before Fili called out. "Are you alone out there or is everyone standing there?"

"They don't have to be," Thorin said, turning a look at those standing at his back.

Balin nodded once, turning to the others and motioning toward the stairs.  They descended back down to the lobby to wait for news, rather than go their separate ways to their apartments.

"Please open the door," Thorin said, a hint of desperation in his voice and there was a quiet scuffling sound before Kili pulled the door open, blood smeared across his cheeks and hair, bruises already forming and braid behind his left ear. Thorin stopped breathing for a moment, getting a glance at Fili behind his brother. "Oin!" he roared back down the stairs.

Oin had made it about halfway down the stairs, but turned to climb them again.  He passed the door long enough to duck into his own apartment just down the hall and grab his kit. 

By the time he returned, Dis had reached the first floor and crossed to her brother's side.  She froze at the sight of Kili, having not yet seen the state of her eldest, a spike of fear shooting through her, though she did her best to cover it until they were inside.

Thorin glanced once at his sister before entering the apartment proper and getting a better look at Fili and trying not to think about what Kili's new braid meant. He stopped short again, looking at where Kili had already pulled Fili's shirt off and tried to clean the numerous cuts all over his skin.

"It looks worse than it is," Fili tried to say.

Dis stepped inside and rested her hand on the back of a chair, her knuckles whitening as she leaned on it, "That's not all that comforting."

Oin paused, looking from one brother to the other, assessing the most immediate case, before crossing to treat Fili's cuts first. “They're mostly shallow," he protested, holding a handkerchief against the deepest cut on his throat. "Kili's ribs are most trouble."

Kili opened his mouth, almost snapping that Fili was like to bleed out the number of cuts he had before he closed his mouth with a clicking sound, Thorin slamming the door behind them.

Their mother went very still at that, looking from one to the other as Oin worked quickly on the worst of Fili's cuts.  The doctor glanced up at Kili, "Sit down and don't jostle your ribs until I can look at you and brace them."

Fili actually tried to bat Oin away. "They're cuts, I can deal with--"

"Fili," Thorin said, voice low and Fili stilled.

Dis looked between her sons, the cut on Fili's throat telling her more than she liked of what had nearly happened to them, and the new braid behind Kili's left ear speaking of how it ended, "What..." she drew a breath and shook her head, "Who did this?"

They glanced at each other, Kili taking a breath as if to speak and Fili beating him to it. "Bolg," he said and looked over at Thorin. "Azog is going to come down on us like a bag of bricks for killing his son."

"He tried to kill mine first," Thorin said, the words low with barely contained anger and Fili took a deep breath.

"Yeah," he agreed, voice sounding more hoarse. "But that's not gonna matter."

Oin set to work on cleaning and bandaging the cuts at Fili's throat, "Don't talk and hold still." Circling the chair to sit down in it when she felt herself shaking, Dis ran a hand over her face.

Thorin leaned his hands against the back of the chair his sister sat in, even as Kili looked down, hissing quietly when he forgot that Bolg had broken his arm as well and he tried to move it. Dis' gaze darted to her youngest son, worry and a trace of her fear in her expression, "Kili?"

"Yes?" he asked, looking over and trying not to move any part of his body. Thorin's hands tightened against the back of the chair enough he vaguely worried about snapping the wood.

Meeting his eyes and holding her gaze steady, his mother spoke clearly, "Where are you injured?"

"Ribs," he said, guessing at why his torso hurt. "Arm," he said after a moment. "Bruises."

Her gaze darted to where Oin was finishing the bandage on Fili's neck so that the young man could talk freely again.  Once the doctor had finished and moved on to other cuts, she spoke again, "Are you hurt anywhere we can't see, Fili?"

"No," he said and thought about it. "I don't think so. Oin, I can finish, the rest are just scrapes--"

"And a broken wrist," Kili added, Fili looking over in some surprise, having though Kili was unconscious when that had happened.

"A broken..."  Dis drew a deep breath, but fell silent, leaning her head back against her brother's arms briefly.  Oin frowned and took care of the last relatively deep cut before turning his attention to Fili's wrist.

Fili hissed at that before holding himself still. Thorin stroked a hand over Dis' hair before looking back at Kili and fetching a towel, dampening it. Approaching his nephew, he leaned over to start wiping the blood off his face. "Is this yours?" he asked, Fili watching them instead of Oin.

"Mostly not," Kili said, trying to hold himself still.

Oin prodded carefully at Fili's wrist as he determined how the bone was broken.  He looked up at Fili after a moment, "I'm going to have to pull this back into place.  It should slide right back where it needs to be, but it's going to hurt like no other."

Both Thorin and Kili hesitated, looking over as Fili gave a tiny tight nod.

Taking careful hold of Fili's forearm and his hand, Oin gave a single sharp yank, forcing the bone back into place and quickly turning to find the materials to splint it until the swelling went down.  He'd have to mix up some sort of plaster for a light cast for each of them based on the sounds of it.

Trying to bite back his scream as his bone reset, Fili failed and Kili made an aborted shift as if he was going to go to his brother and remembered he wasn't allowed to move, settling back.

Thorin looked between them, and Dis, wanting to stay but aware of those still waiting for news in the lobby. "I'll return," he said, looking at each again in turn and Fili gave a tight nod, mouth still thinned in pain.

Dis nodded, rising as her brother left, crossing to Kili's side and only moving when Oin finished with Fili and approached the younger of the two to look him over.  The doctor helped Kili out of his shirt so that he could take a better look.  He hissed through his teeth at the bruising over Kili's ribs.

Fili staggered over to the chair nearest his brother as Oin worked, looking over at his mother. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

Dis stroked a hand over her son's golden hair and shook her head, "I'm just glad the two of you are alive."

"So am I," Fili managed, remembering the press of his own knife against his throat and Kili's eyes when Bolg finally dropped.

Oin glanced at them before turning his attention back to where he was carefully wrapping Kili's ribs in the hope that it would brace them enough and that the ribs wouldn't shift, "You're going to have to go very carefully for a while, until these heal."

Kili nodded. "Alright," he said, voice very faint.

The doctor's gaze moved to Kili's arm and he paused for a moment, "I'm going to have to take a look at that, now, lad."

Kili nodded again, Fili letting out a hiss of sympathetic pain. Oin carefully examined the break, shaking his head, "You both are lucky.  Somehow these ended up being clean breaks."  He looked at Kili, "I'm giving you the same warning I gave your brother.  I'm going to have to pull this back into place and it's going to likely hurt more than when it broke."

Kili froze, looking much more frightened of that and Fili took a breath before moving over and holding Kili's free hand. "It's not so bad, brother," he said and Kili gave him a disbelieving look before nodding.

Dis crossed over, gently running her fingers through Kili's hair.  Oin looked up at them and then nodded, taking hold of Kili's arm above and below the break and pulling until he felt the bone snap back into place.  He worked swiftly to splint it, "I'll see about casts for the two of you in a couple days--give time for the swelling to go down."

Fili gave him a nod, Kili's teeth clenched too hard to say anything. "Thank you, Oin."

The doctor rose, fishing pain medication out of his bag, "One pill each, every four hours.  It's the best I've got right now."

"Then we'll take it," Fili said, trying to force a smile, Kili leaning his head against his side and also trying to force a smile for their mother.

Oin nodded, closing his kit and exiting.  DIs watched him go before looking back at her sons, staying silent and not trusting her ability to say anything.

As Fili sank back into the chair he let out a long breath, Kili tugging self-consciously on the braid Fili had put in his hair and slowly looking back over to their mother. Still brushing her hand through Kili's hair, she paused when she encountered his hand on the braid.  Her hand stilled, but she traced the tips of her fingers along the plait, "Did your brother braid this for you?"

"Yes," he said, Fili watching them.

Dis nodded, glancing at Fili and unsure of how to express gratitude for the fact that she wouldn't have to braid that plait into Kili's hair.  Shifting her position, Dis carefully embraced her youngest son, cautious of his ribs and arms, her hand brushing over his dark hair.

"Mother," he managed, bringing his uninjured arm up over her shoulder and holding on.

Drawing him closer to her, she pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head, "Kili, my beloved son."  Dis let her gaze drift to her eldest, even as she held Kili to her.

Fili just watched them with a tiny smile, Kili making a hiccupping sound. "I'm sorry," he said, tilting his head back.

"Whatever for?" Dis murmured, tracing a thumb under Kili's eye.

"For this, for worrying you, for..." he stopped talking before he could say _for being so weak_.

"I'm your mother, it's my job to worry about you," she replied.  "This was not your fault.  You came back to me alive," she resisted the urge to brush over his new braid and instead tucked a piece of his hair behind his ear, "and you brought your brother back to me alive as well.  You are of Durin's line, and no matter what anyone else says of that it is a noble and strong line, and you've shown both to me tonight, my son."

Kili let out a shaky breath and nodded. "A-alright."

Dis traced a finger along the herringbone braid again, murmuring, "I wish you had been given more time before you were in a situation to earn this."

“I'm more surprised it took so long," Kili said and Fili ducked his head down, not thinking about that he had, technically, been younger than his brother.

Nodding very slightly, Dis looked toward Fili again, "It doesn't change me wishing that I had never seen it in either of your hair."

Fili winced at that, the motion slight. "We'd be living a very different life then."

"We would," she replied quietly.  "But this is our life and we will make of it what we can.  You're both alive, and that means that we can still do so."

"We'll be more careful," Kili added, fully intending to be just that.

Dis kissed his brow, "That's all I can ask."

w-w-w

Downstairs, the others were waiting anxiously for word.  Balin straightened from where he'd been leaning against the wall when Thorin came down the stairs, "Well?"

Thorin hesitated before he reached the ground level, still standing on the stairs. "Bolg attacked them," he said quietly. "We'll have Azog on us much faster than assumed, and having a different name on the deed seems not to have protected us long."

Balin drew a deep breath at that and nodded, "Are they alright?"

"In time," Thorin said after a pause and Dwalin's face twisted, feeling guilt at not protecting them.

"Dis?" he asked, voice rough and Thorin looked over.

"With her sons."

"Have--" Balin broke off, looking toward the door as there was a tentative knock.

Thorin's eyes snapped over to the door, freezing and Ori hesitated.

"Five minutes?" he asked, looking over at Bofur.

Bofur nodded slightly, hand on his gun.  The knock came again, this time accompanied by BIlbo's muffled voice, "Is anyone in there?"

Thorin let out a breath, Ori looking back at the door and still hesitating to open it.

Balin glanced at Thorin and paused for a moment before crossing to the door, hand on his gun in case there was someone waiting for the door to open.  He opened it, motioning Bilbo inside, "Come in, lad.  Quickly now."

Bilbo moved swiftly inside, not surprised when he heard the lock click back into place behind him.

Bracing his hands on the railing, Thorin let out a breath. "Bilbo," he greeted. "What are you doing here? Has something gone wrong?"

Bilbo shook his head, "I came to find out if you had located Fili and Kili."  His gaze swept the assembled group and their expressions, "And...and if they were okay."

"They live," Dwalin said, considering Bilbo with distrust.

Grey eyes darted to him and then back to Thorin, "They're home then."

"Yes," Thorin said, one hand still gripping the railing hard enough that it was white. "They are home and Oin is seeing to them."

Bilbo breathed a soft sigh of, well he couldn't quite call it relief if Oin was seeing to them, "Thank god."

Thorin swayed, wanting nothing more than to draw Bilbo against his side and bury his face in that curly hair but any such desires as that would have to wait. "Everyone," he said instead. "We will need to be on our guards. No one, and I do mean no one, should go out on their own for now. Just," he bit back a sigh. "Just be careful."

A murmur of agreement circled the entryway.  Now that it had been confirmed that Fili and Kili were still breathing, and they had some vague idea of what had happened, the assembled group seemed to be preparing to return to their individual apartments.

Thorin motioned for Dwalin and Balin to stay, looking over at where Ori was greeting Bilbo quietly by the door. "This is," he started to say and shook his head. "Last time, Azog burned down where we lived for kicks and because someone fingered him to the police. If he finds out we killed his son--" He shook his head instead of finishing that sentence.

"Then we prepare for that probability," Balin murmured.  "The building's defensible, it's a matter of not allowing ourselves to be caught off-guard again.  And being ready to kill him the moment he shows his face."

"That at least should not be a problem," Thorin said, face darkening.

"We'll post look-outs tonight, and convene to figure out a plan in the morning," Balin offered.

"Good," Thorin nodded and looked at Dwalin. "Dwalin," he started and the taller cut him off.

"I'll find Bifur," he said. "He usually doesn't much care for sleep. We'll take the first watch tonight."

Balin nodded slightly at that, "Wake me for the second watch, brother."

"Of course," Dwalin said, moving away and giving Bilbo another dark look before leaning over to talk to Bifur.

Bilbo shifted back slightly at that look, but he finally crossed the entry to Thorin, giving Dwalin a wide berth.

“You are perfectly free to ignore him," Thorin said, watching Bilbo. "As much as you may."

"I'll keep that in mind," Bilbo responded, quietly.  "Are you going to be alright?"

Thorin considered him for a long moment. "Perhaps," he said finally.

He paused, "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"And what could that be?" Thorin asked, looking down at Bilbo and mustering a tired smile. Heading for the stairs, Ori paused at that, blinking before hurrying past.

"Well, I," Bilbo hesitated, "I could make you dinner."  He offered quietly, "I know it's not much."

Thorin considered, suddenly more aware that people were still watching them before he nodded."Alright. Thank you."

Realizing how many people were actually still there, Bilbo paused, "Should we go up then?"

Thorin nodded, perhaps a shade quickly. "Let us."

Bilbo followed him up the stairs, glancing at Fili and Kili's door as they reached the first floor.

Thorin hesitated as well, wanting to walk in and check again but fairly certain they would be unwanted at the moment. "You could always come back tomorrow to make sure they're alright," he said, trying not to think about other options for keeping Bilbo there until morning.

"I…"  Bilbo hesitated, but nodded, "I think I may take you up on that."

"I'd offer to let you stay," Thorin continued and paused. "If you'd like. But there are no spare beds in the building so far as I can tell."

"The floor would do just as well," Bilbo replied quietly. "If, that is if it comes to that."

"If you would like," Thorin said finally, clenching and unclenching his hand.

Bilbo glanced at him, "We'll see."

Inclining his head, Thorin turned again and continued up the stairs, glancing down each hallway as they went to make sure nothing was amiss.

They reached the fifth floor and Bilbo stepped into Thorin's apartment, grey gaze darting around it as he moved toward the kitchen. "There's not much food," Thorin warned, though there wasn't actually much anything in the room.

"You would be surprised what I can do with 'not much food'," Bilbo responded, looking through the cupboards to see what he had to work with.

“If you say so," Thorin said, considering his idea of not much food would put most college student's to shame.

Bilbo frowned slightly at the cupboards and icebox, "Suddenly I understand how you subsist on soup and salad for dinner when everyone else is ordering meals twice the size of most of our customers."

"Ereborians are fond of good food and drink, generally speaking," Thorin shrugged.

Nodding, Bilbo finally came to a decision and pulled out makings for a simple soup that wouldn't use all of Thorin's supplies, "I had noticed that, actually."

Thorin laughed quietly, shaking his head. "I've always been interested in other things. I never had the time for it."

"If I was to take the time, and the groceries, to make you a more extensive meal, would you eat it?"  Bilbo asked as he stirred the bullion into the water he had put on the stove.

"It depends on how extensive," Thorin said, corners of his mouth twisting up and trying to stay back. "But I would try."

“Oh, not too extensive.  But something perhaps a little more substantial than soup," came the answer, Bilbo offering a glance and a faint smile.

"I suppose I could bear that," Thorin said, clasping his hands behind his back and watching.

"Then I'll have to see about doing that sometime."  The soup was ready in a short amount of time and Bilbo turned down the heat just enough to keep it warm as he ladled two bowls out, crossing over to Thorin and handing him one.

Hesitating a split second, Thorin accepted the bowl. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Bilbo replied softly.

Wrapping his hands around the plain bowl for a long moment, Thorin just watched him. "How are your classes?" he asked finally, trying to find something to focus on.

"They're progressing.  Nearly finished for break, actually.  I've a couple of papers, and a final within the next couple of weeks," Bilbo answered, dropping his gaze to the soup in his hands and stirring it absently.  "I've been researching for the papers and I'm still pretty sure I've no idea what exactly I'm writing on."

Thorin took a deep breath. "If the semester is so close to ending, I wonder if Fili will finish."

"He's been doing well so far, from what I've seen in class," Bilbo said.  "And if he needs, or rather wants, help I'm more than willing to study with him."

"His wrist is broken," Thorin said, tone quiet. "And... suddenly I can't remember which hand he writes with."

Bilbo's eyes widened, "I...I'm relatively fast when taking dictation.  I'm sure if he were to talk to the professors provisions could be made for him to have someone write what he said in the answers."

Pausing, Thorin nodded. "If you think so," he said. "Fili can use both of his hands for most things, but I'm not sure he's ever trained his weaker hand for writing. And with this being his first semester," he shook his head slightly, finally starting to eat the soup.

"I think it's certainly something that should be looked into, and it should work," the younger man nodded very slightly, still stirring his soup.  He paused, "I didn't realize it was his first semester."

Thorin almost looked like he was going to roll his eyes. "He graduated from high school several years ago and only when Ori started talking about college when he graduated did he think to give it a try."

That earned a quiet chuckle, "Well, he's doing well at it."  Bilbo convinced himself to actually start eating the soup before it went cold.

"He may have realized he could use his head for things," Thorin said, watching him. "Are you alright?"

Bilbo nodded very slightly, "I'm fine.  Frankly I should be asking you that.  Though I suppose I already did that downstairs."

"You did," Thorin said. "But you are hardly acting or looking as fine as you could be."

"I suppose I'll eventually adjust to you all getting yourselves badly injured, but I'm not quite there yet," Bilbo offered by way of answer.

Thorin's expression shuttered and he took another spoonful of soup before daring to say anything. "I did say you should run," he said. "If you stay, you're as like to become harmed."

"I..." he paused and considered that. "Then that's a risk I take.  I still stand by what I said before."

Thorin set the spoon down, watching Bilbo's face intently. "Most would not understand your motivation."

Bilbo grimaced at that, "I'm not sure most people really need to understand my motivation."

"And what about me?" Thorin asked, still watching him intently.

"You want to know my motivations?  For which part of this whole thing, exactly?"  Bilbo asked, finally deciding that he wasn't actually going to eat and setting the bowl down on the counter.

"As much as you're willing to tell me," Thorin said, stepping closer. "For as many reasons as you're willing to say."

"Well, that helps narrow it down," Bilbo murmured. "I'm not willing to run, because frankly not knowing what's happening to you all now that I know what could is worse than knowing.  Fili's a good friend of mine, or at least I consider him such.  And I find myself caring a great deal about _you_ ," his grey eyes rose to meet Thorin's gaze.  "It...it may not seem like much, but it's enough reason for me to give myself."

"Care is enough," Thorin said, setting his own bowl aside.

"Is it really?"  Bilbo murmured.  "Most might say it isn't."

"We're not most," Thorin reminded him quietly, tilting forward.

Bilbo hesitated before taking another half step toward Thorin, "No, no we aren't."

"May I kiss you again?" Thorin asked, voice low.

"I wish you would," Bilbo murmured.

Thorin hesitated before sliding a hand through Bilbo's hair to rest against the back of his neck, tugging him closer before leaning down, kissing the other gently. Bilbo's hands moved to rest on his shoulders as he pressed up into the kiss.

Humming into the kiss, Thorin drew him a bit closer, still trying not to press it and be gentle. Bilbo allowed that for a while before pulling himself nearly flush against Thorin, his kiss turning more insistent.

As he startled, Thorin drew back slightly. One of his hands drifted to Bilbo's hip, tracing his skin there. Bilbo drew a sharp breath at that, his grey eyes snapping open and searched Thorin's face.

"Do you know what you're doing?" Thorin asked. "You're very young still."

"I'm hardly a blushing virgin."  He paused, "Though I've not been in a situation like this exactly before."

"Exactly like this?" Thorin asked, tilting his head to kiss the side of Bilbo's jaw.

"Another man," Bilbo answered after a moment, tilting his head back slightly to allow Thorin easier access.

Thorin paused again, both hands resting on Bilbo's hips. "You should go home," he murmured, pressing his mouth against the other side of Bilbo's jaw.

Breath stuttering, the other man let his eyes flutter shut, "P-perhaps I should."

Thorin's hands tightened on his hips. "I cannot let you sleep on the floor," he murmured. "I'm not sure I could restrain myself if you stayed."

"I...I don't want to go," Bilbo replied quietly, swallowing slightly.

Making a sound deep in his throat, Thorin drew back to look at Bilbo's face. "If I asked if you were sure again, would you be insulted?"

Bilbo shook his head, "No.  No, I wouldn't be insulted."

"Then are you certain?" Thorin asked, carefully trying to stay back.

Drawing a deep breath and finding that didn't do much more than cause him to breathe in Thorin's scent.  "I...I'm as certain as I ever will be, I think."

“That doesn't sound certain," Thorin said with a vague frown.

"I'm out of my depth here." Bilbo shook his head, "I want this.  I want you.  But I'm not sure I know what I'm doing."

"You could go home," Thorin said, trying to be careful. "And wait."

"Wait?"  The younger man frowned very slightly, "Til when?  For what exactly?  Time's not going to make me any more certain about this."

"Is there anything that would?" Thorin asked, frowning slightly.

"Why me?" Bilbo asked finally.

"What?" Thorin blinked, confusion crossing over his face.

"Well, I, I guess I just don't understand why me,” Bilbo managed, not quite meeting his eyes.

"Because you're you," Thorin said, tilting his head. "I couldn't give you a list, if that's what you want. But you're different, and handsome," he smoothed a hand through Bilbo's hair again. "And it's been a very long time since I've wanted anyone. But you're wonderful."

Bilbo paused for a brief moment before leaning forward to kiss him again. Thorin hesitated, trying to let Bilbo lead the kiss, though it went against his instincts.

Drawing back after a moment, Bilbo looked up at him, "I'm certain, Thorin."

Drawing a deep breath, Thorin pressed back down, one hand coming up to brace Bilbo's back.

Leaning up into the kiss, one arm looped up around the back of Thorin's neck to help him keep his balance as he pressed himself flush against the other man. Bracing his hands on Bilbo's hips he pulled the other up further against him, licking against the other's mouth.

Lips parting, Bilbo moaned softly into the kiss and tangled a leg around Thorin's. Thorin considered that for a moment before using his height and strength to lift Bilbo up enough to press him against the wall, letting the wall hold Bilbo up.

Bilbo's breath hitched, his hands tangling in Thorin's hair, legs wrapping around the other man's waist to give himself a bit more support. Hands sliding down to cup Bilbo's thighs, Thorin hummed against the kiss, pressing him closer against the wall.

Moaning again, Bilbo arched his neck, pressing further into the kiss.  His thumb traced along Thorin's pulse, his other hand moving to grip the other man's shoulder.

"I--" Thorin started and scrapped his teeth over Bilbo's pulse.

Bilbo's breath hitched, his eyes fluttering, "Y-yes?"

"I'd like to undress you," Thorin rumbled.

"I-I would find that acceptable," Bilbo managed.

Thorin stepped back, setting Bilbo down gently before pulling at the lapels of his jacket. Stepping back further, he ran his hands down the other's chest and started unbuttoning the jacket.

Fumbling slightly, Bilbo started on Thorin's buttons as well, even as he leaned up to kiss him again. Tilting his head down, Thorin got distracted with the kiss before he yanked Bilbo's jacket open and down his shoulders, tossing it toward the table and only vaguely hoping it wouldn’t land on anything it shouldn’t.

Bilbo caught Thorin's wrists long enough to undo the cuffs of his shirt.  He returned to divesting Thorin of jacket and vest, dropping both on the floor before starting on his shirt.

Thorin chuckled, leaning down to kiss Bilbo's throat again as he unbuttoned his vest and shirt, pulling them both off together. Bilbo made a soft sound in the back of his throat, pressing closer against Thorin even as he finished with Thorin's shirt buttons.

Thorin shifted against him, pressing their chests together before drawing back to look at the other. Tracing a hand over Bilbo's chest he smiled. "Come to bed?" he asked softly.

Leaning into the touch, Bilbo nodded, "God, yes."

"Then come with me," Thorin murmured, back of his hand trailing down the side of Bilbo's face.

"Lead on," Bilbo leaned into the touch, hand twining with Thorin's free one. Offering him a faint smile, Thorin twined their hands together and led Bilbo backwards toward the bedroom.

w-w-w

Bilbo blinked himself awake the next morning, the room lightening very slightly with dawn's light outside the window.  He stretched slowly as he oriented himself with where he was, turning his head to look at Thorin. Thorin slept on his stomach, one arm under his head and hair strewn out over the pillow.

Smiling faintly, Bilbo carefully moved a lock of Thorin's hair away from his face, trying not to wake him. Thorin snapped awake, tensing as he processed where he was and blinked blearily eyes at Bilbo, relaxing back into the mattress.

"Morning," the younger man murmured, his hand hovering between them.

"Good morning," Thorin rumbled, voice rough from sleep as he shifted onto his side, twining his hand with Bilbo's and bringing his palm up to kiss.

"Did you sleep well?" Bilbo asked quietly, smile still on his face.

"Yes," Thorin said and made a disconnect sound when he considered what time it was. "And yourself?"

Bilbo stretched slightly, nodding, "Quite well, actually."

"Good," Thorin rumbled, a hand tracing over Bilbo's hip bone and up his side.

Bilbo arched at that, turning to fully face Thorin.  He paused, his hand moving to gently brush over a scar on Thorin's shoulder--one among many.

Thorin inclined his head slightly at that touch, a question still in his eyes. The bullet wound on his shoulder was mild compared to the bayonet slash across his stomach, or the mass of scar tissue on his back, both courtesy of his war service.

Fingers tracing feather-light down Thorin's chest, Bilbo stopped before he actually touched the scar over the other's stomach.  HIs grey eyes drifted from there up to meet Thorin's gaze, "You've been through so much."

"It's not so bad," Thorin rolled his shoulders up into as much of a shrug as he could manage while still on the bed. "It could always have been worse."

Bilbo resisted the urge to ask 'how', not certain he wanted the answer to that question.  He hummed slightly instead, neither agreeing nor disagreeing as his hand moved up to push Thorin's hair back behind the other's shoulder.

"None of these killed me," Thorin said, nuzzling forward to kiss Bilbo's shoulder. "Which is more than I can say for much of my family."

"They tried their damnedst though, didn't they?"  Bilbo murmured.

"Aye," Thorin agreed with a faint smile. "There are many that have tried their damnest to kill me. But they've all failed."

Bilbo's lips curled upward very slightly at that, "Nine lives, hm?"

"I certainly hope so," Thorin agreed with a laugh and leaned forward to kiss the smile on Bilbo's mouth.

Returning the kiss languidly, Bilbo relaxed against Thorin.  He knew they should probably move on with their days, but he had no real desire to leave quite yet.

"Come," Thorin murmured, drawing back. "You wanted to see how Fili and Kili were doing."

Bilbo pulled back, stretching again as he nodded, "Right, yes."

Thorin's fingers twitched to run down the other's sides again, but he'd spent years denying himself and rolled out of bed instead, rising.

Finally convincing himself to get out of the warmth of the bed, Bilbo rose, casting about for the few pieces of his clothing that had actually made it to the bedroom. Thorin smiled as he watched him, pulling on pants before going and fetching the rest of Bilbo's clothing before considering his own closet.

Bilbo offered a murmured thanks, putting on his shirt and trying to get it to look a bit less rumpled as he watched Thorin.

Thorin rolled his shoulders into a clean shirt before pulling on a vest, looking over his shoulder at Bilbo. "Will you need to do anything today?"

"I should go let Gandalf know that Fili and Kili are found and alive.  I told him I'd update him," Bilbo answered, smoothing out his vest and jacket before putting them on.

"Anything else?" Thorin asked, rubbing a hand over Bilbo's hair.

Tilting his head into the touch, Bilbo shrugged, "Not at this point."

Thorin nodded before slipping to the bathroom to find his brush. Even though it wouldn't matter just to go downstairs he rather be prepared for the entire day.

Bilbo ran his hands through his curls, trying to tame them a bit, "How about you?  Anything you need to do today?"

"No," he shook his head. "Not particularly, though there are things I should attend to."

Deciding that his hair was as tamed as it was likely to get, even though it still looked more of a disaster than normal, Bilbo nodded, moving over to lean against the bathroom doorframe, "What sort of things?  Or should I not ask?"

"You might not want to ask," Thorin shrugged. "We just have to prepare."

“Is there anything I can help with?" Bilbo asked softly.

"Keep yourself safe," Thorin rumbled, turning to look at him.

"I will," came the quiet response.

"Then that's what you can do for me," Thorin said. "Life is likely to become very dangerous, very quickly."

Bilbo drew a deep breath, nodding, "Then that's what I'll do.  Try to be careful."

"Azog will likely come after us," Thorin said. "Let alone Smaug again. Azog is unlikely to see you as a target, but Smaug's seen you and associated you with us. It will not be safe."

"What do you suggest I do, Thorin?"  Bilbo asked after a moment's pause.

"Don't go places alone," Thorin said, approaching him and leaning their foreheads together. "And be terribly careful."

"I promise," Bilbo murmured, reaching up to rest a hand on Thorin's cheek.

"Then come, let us say good morning to my nephews," Thorin said, stepping back and ruffling his hair back from his shoulder.

Bilbo drew another deep breath and nodded, stepping back, "Yes, let's."

Trailing his hand over Bilbo's shoulder again, Thorin nodded before stepping out of his apartment, Dwalin coming up the stairs. Upon seeing Bilbo and Thorin his expression went dark but he just gave Thorin a tight nod. "I came to tell you," he started, still glaring at Bilbo. "That there was no activity this night. We've heard or seen nothing of Azog, but he may not know yet either."

Bilbo shifted back slightly under the weight of Dwalin's glare, but stayed silent.

Thorin nodded. "I'd be more worried about tonight."

"We'll make sure everyone knows, keep them inside," Dwalin said, the next words almost grinding out of his mouth. "Will he be here tonight as well?"

Bilbo glanced at Thorin at that question, but responded, "I have papers to write tonight."

Thorin nodded, managing to meet Dwalin's eyes as the other shook his head slightly. "Very well," Dwalin said, eyes narrowed enough to tell Thorin they would probably have a longer conversation later before stepping into the apartment next to Thorin's, which he had claimed quickly.

His gaze focused on the door for a moment, Bilbo glanced at Thorin again, "He doesn't much like me does he?"

"There's not many he does," Thorin remarked with a shrug, heading down the stairs. Bilbo sent one last glance over his shoulder at Dwalin's door before following Thorin.

When Thorin knocked, Fili pulled the door open, seeing his uncle through the keyhole and not Bilbo behind him. "Oh," he said, looking some alarm at Bilbo. "Good morning," he managed, hair in disarray around his face and though he'd washed his hair as much as he could with only his head in the shower to not disturb his bandages, there was still blood in the blond hair and he hadn't put a shirt on, chest only covered with bandages.

Bilbo drew in a sharp breath before he could catch it, his grey eyes widening, "Good morning."

Fili shifted back slightly, taking a deep breath. "Come on in," he said, stepping back to let them pass.

"Where is Kili?" Thorin asked.

"Sleeping still," Fili said, having been awake for several hours already. He'd tried to shower, curled up around Kili again while fighting down panic and only now was trying to figure out how to make breakfast.

Bilbo looked Fili over, eyes resting on the splint before he headed for the small kitchen, "How are the two of you doing in the light of day?"

Fili shifted his shoulders. "Alive," he said and blinked as Thorin went for the kitchen.

"Did you have plans for breakfast?" Bilbo asked, before presuming to start making a meal.

"No," Fili said even as Thorin pulled a pan down, starting eggs and sausage before digging through the ice box.

"Do you have cheese?" he asked.

Fili nodded. "It's in there somewhere, Kili did the shopping."

Bilbo located some bread, setting it on a broiler pan and turning the oven on to toast it, "Are you doing alright?"

"As I could be," Fili said, frowning at the more comprehensive breakfast the two were putting together. "You really don't--" he started and stopped when Thorin looked over at him.

Glancing at Fili, Bilbo hesitated as his eyes fell on the splint again, "Are you able to write?"

"Not prettily," Fili shrugged. "But I should manage something legible."

"Alright," his gaze drifted to the bedroom doors but he pulled his attention back in time to remove the toast from the oven just prior to it burning.

Fili frowned at him and then looked at where Thorin was paying attention to the sausages and hoped his queasy look might be put down to being tired and hurt.

Setting the plate of toast on the table that Fili and Kili had managed to obtain, Bilbo paused before crossing to Fili, glancing at him and speaking in an undertone, "Is there anything I can do for you and Kili?"

"No, but thank you," Fili said and arched a brow at where his uncle was still cooking. "Did something happen?" he asked, turning that arched brow on Bilbo.

Bilbo felt his cheeks color at that and he rather pointedly looked anywhere that wasn't Fili or Thorin, "I actually arrived last night to find out if you and your brother were alive.  You were with your mother at the time."

"And you've stayed since," Fili hummed, Thorin finally looking at them over his shoulder.

His friend hesitated, but nodded, offering Thorin a faint smile when he caught his glance, "Yes.  I have."

Thorin's eyes drifted over to Fili. "Would that be a problem?" he asked, tone low, since he hadn't had a lover since he thought Fili could remember.

"What sort of a problem could it possibly be?" Fili asked, shifting his shoulders back against the chair carefully. "I had been the one asking if he found you attractive." Thorin's eyes widened in slight alarm at that before he pulled the pan off the stove.

Bilbo chuckled, but turned it into a cough, still feeling his cheeks flush, "He did.  Rather directly."

"Fili," Thorin admonished and Fili just held his hands up and lifted his shoulders, shrug a smaller motion than usual.

"I was curious," he said.

"It wasn't all that bad.  A bit of a surprise, but not bad," Bilbo offered.

"That's sweet of you to lie," Fili said, remembering Bilbo's expression as the door to his bedroom cranked open finally, Kili emerging with sleepy eyes and his hair more untamed than usual. Thorin frowned slightly at that and Fiil forgot he was supposed to be breathing.

"We have guests," Kili said, in vague confusion, braid from last night still in his hair.

"They made us breakfast," Fili added.

Bilbo looked in that direction and offered Fili a slightly glance, "Morning, Kili."

"Good morning," Kili returned, and he pulled at the braid and Fili wanted to reach out and stop him drawing attention there except it was a bad habit he had as well.

Eyes drifting to the braid, Bilbo bit back the urge to ask--it wasn't his business what it meant exactly, "How are you feeling?"

Kili blinked at him and made a distressed sound. "Like someone slammed me into a wall and broke my bones." Thorin set the first plate in front of his youngest nephew before fetching more for Bilbo and Fili.

Bilbo tried to keep his lips from quirking at that, and managed it somehow, "At least that's honest."  His gaze flicked briefly to the splint on the dark-haired youth's arm.

"Well it was that or saying I got run over by a tank," Kili said, eying the food before trying to figure out how to eat it gracefully with only one arm mobile, and not his best one.

"I would imagine that might leave more bruises," Bilbo murmured, and wishing to take it back almost as soon as he said it.  That had been in poor taste.

"I don't know," Kili said. "I have a lot of those at the moment. Probably wouldn't have survived the other one though." His hand shook on the fork for a moment and Fili put a hand on his thigh under the table.

"But you did survive," Bilbo spoke softly, picking at his food.  "Both of you."

"Yeah," Kili agreed, eying the bandage on Fili's neck as Thorin finally joined them at the table with his own plate. Bilbo glanced at Thorin offering him a ghost of a smile.

Returning the smile, Thorin started eating as Kili gave him brother a half-alarmed look at that exchange. Fili just inclined his head and Kili blinked before shrugging and accepting that new revelation.

"Do we know if Azog knows yet?" Fili asked quietly.

"No," Thorin shook his head. "We do not know yet."

Bilbo glanced at them, "When he does find out, how long do you think before he'll seek reprisals?"

"About an hour," Fili shrugged, half joking and half serious. "He's not known for impulse control."

Pausing for a moment, unsure of whether to take that as full honesty or not, Bilbo nodded, "I suppose that's good to know."

Fili shrugged again, Thorin giving him perhaps a slightly dark look before shaking his head. "Did your mother go to work then?"

"She had to, yeah," Fili said. "You two are on good terms right now, right? She wasn't... that great last night."

"I'll speak to her tonight," Thorin assured. "We're currently on good terms, yes."

Bilbo finished his meal relatively quickly, rising to start washing up the pots and pans.

"You don't have to--" Fili started to protest and realized he didn't think he nor Kili could do it and Thorin had cooked the breakfast. "We can find a way to handle it," he finished lamely.

Glancing back at him, Bilbo offered a faint smile, "I know you can.  But please, it's what little I can do to help this morning and I'd like to."

"If you're certain," Fili said, still not looking happy about it.

The other young man nodded very slightly before turning back to the sink, washing the dishes and then setting them to dry, making relatively quick work of them.

w-w-w

The door to the building that Azog's gang called their home base opened, two of his men scurrying inside, though neither looked like they wanted to be the first in the door and from there up the stairs to where their employer spent his days.  They'd tried drawing straws and casting lots, but the one who was holding the straws or calling the coin kept cheating, so they still hadn't decided who would be the unlucky sod who had to actually speak to Azog.

Azog looked up when they stepped onto the floor he used, the walls long since knocked down to allow him all the space he wanted. "Yes?" he asked, lounging on a ratty old couch, cleaning his gun.

The one who had been unlucky enough to enter first, glanced back to find himself suddenly abandoned, "We...we found your son, boss."

Tensing, Azog didn't move out of his sprawl. "So where is he then?"

His lackey looked ready to flee, "D-dead, sir.  Two...two bullets in a back alley.  They're bringing him now."

For another moment, Azog didn't move and the other minion actually let out a breath before he sprang into motion. Not bothering to shot the man who'd dared to speak, he slammed the gun against the side of his head and when the lackey fell down the stairs only then did Azog shoot him for good measure.

The racket of it caused quiet the stirring at the bottom of the stairs as anyone who had been down there quickly retreated for rooms that couldn't be easily shot into from where Azog was.

"Who did it," Azog demanded, turning on the other man still standing. "You're less likely to be shot if you speak quickly."

"We're not sure yet." He quickly followed it up, "But it was only a couple of blocks from where Oakenshield's people are now.  Probably them."

Azog nodded, tripping the other man down the stairs, figuring he would survive the fall and not really caring one way or another as he stalked over to the window, bracing his hands on the sill and glaring out over the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember way back when when VS claimed this story wasn't just an excuse to beat up Fili? Clearly that was a lie. 
> 
> Extra long chapter to celebrate finishing a really rough assignment.


	12. Into a Worse Trap for Waiting

Bofur looked down at the small box in his hands.  He'd stopped by a small pastry shop on his way home from work that afternoon and picked up a cake--just a little one, something that a single person or perhaps two could handle.  Now that he was actually back at the apartment building and on his way up to the apartment Ori shared with his eldest brother he was seriously starting to have his doubts about the choice. 

He knew where he stood with Bombur--if his brother needed comfort you were there and you talked so he didn't have to and you plied him with good food and drink.  If it was Bifur, well, in that case he gave his cousin a respite from his constant talking, saw what he could do about finding him a salad he liked so much, and let him do or say as he pleased.  But with Ori?  Bofur had no idea how to even consider going about comforting him, all he knew was that the other seemed like he could use it.

Pausing for a long moment outside the apartment door he finally steeled himself and knocked.  There was motion inside and the door opened a moment later to reveal Dori, whose eyes narrowed almost immediately, "Yes?  What do you want?"

Bofur froze, realizing that with his concern over the offering he hadn't factored in one very overprotective eldest brother who rumor had it could kill a man in several different ways without batting an eyelid.

There was a quiet shuffling sound, Ori appearing behind the other. "Hey, Dori, who is it?"

Dori still didn't take his eyes off of Bofur, mostly blocking the door, "Bofur.  Though he's yet to tell me what exactly he's doing here."

Bofur offered a hesitant smile and seriously considered lying through his teeth and claiming that he had knocked on the wrong door--what with the new building there was some thin chance he might be believed, "I..."

Ori stopped in confusion, frowning at his brother's back before standing up on his toes to see over his shoulder and offering Bofur a smile.

Bofur saw him and his eyes lit up slightly, though Dori's expression darkened at that shift.  Drawing up what courage he had, Bofur finally answered, "I came to see Ori.  I...I actually just wanted to give him this," he held up the box slightly, "I know it's been a rough week."

Ori's eyes widened at that and he looked to his brother again who still stood between him and the door and Bofur.

Dori frowned at that, but finally relented, stepping aside to let Bofur in.  At least if they were there he could keep an eye on the dwarf in front of him.  If either of them thought he was inclined to trust him alone with Ori they were out of their minds.

Smiling first at his brother then at Bofur, Ori rocked back on his heels. "It's good to see you," he managed.

"You too," Bofur replied, stepping in and giving Dori as wide a berth as he could with the other still blocking half the doorway.  He offered Ori the box, "It's not much, but I didn't know what else to get."

Eyes widening slightly, Ori offered him another smile. "You didn't have to get anything you know."

"Well, I know that," Bofur ran a hand over the back of his neck, tugging on the braid there.  "I just, I wanted to do something.  I know you've been having a hard week, with your friend right on top of the apartment building, and now this whole mess."

"With my," Ori started and then remembered Faramir. "Oh, of course. Thank you," he said, wrapping his hands around the box before finally opening it.

Dori tsked slightly, but closed the door and moved over to the kitchen, where he could still see and hear them in the living room. Ori watched him go before turning back to Bofur. "Would you like any of it?" he offered, unsure if that would make Dori tsk again or not.

Bofur offered a half-shrug, "If you feel like sharing.  It's not very large after all."

"I'm still not sure I could eat it all," Ori said with a faint laugh.

Dori made a discontented sound from where he was putting a kettle on to boil.  Bofur offered Ori a sheepish look, "I've never been much good at judging servings."

Ori looked toward the kitchen, wondering about the wisdom of entering to actually get forks. "Would you like any too, brother?" he asked, fairly certain Dori would say no.

"As I have no idea what he's brought you I can hardly say yes or no to that question," Dori replied, his tone not quite irritable.

"There's a lot of chocolate on it," Ori offered sweetly.

His brother's look was far from thrilled, "It will rot your teeth."

"Isn't that the beauty of it?" Ori said under his breath, looking back at Bofur before setting the cake on the table and deciding to brave Dori and the kitchen. Bofur did his best to hide a smile, deciding he should try to be on his best behavior rather than aggravate Dori.

Shuffling into the kitchen, Ori looked around for where the forks were, trusting his brother's habits to make the layout similar to what he remembered. He wanted to tease Dori about trying chocolate but decided he was simply happy with his brother for letting Bofur into the apartment.

"Do you two want any tea?" Dori asked after a moment.

"Would you be willing to spare any?" Ori asked, looking over. "You know, Bofur helped me find the stuff you like so much earlier this week."

Dori grimaced at that, "I can spare some, yes."

"What was that for?" Ori protested. "You could smile at him."

His brother shook his head, "I'll consider it."

Managing not to roll his eyes, Ori held the forks and small plates to his chest. "Tea would be lovely," he managed. "If you would spare it," he added before retreating back into the living and dining room. Dori sighed, leaning against the counter and shaking his head.

Bofur looked up as Ori came back out of the kitchen, "Everything alright?"

"I think so," Ori said, handing him a plate and fork and realizing he forgot a knife with a sigh before seeing how easily it would be to pry the cake apart with just a fork.

Bofur accepted both, tilting his head to one side as he considered Ori, "Are _you_ doing alright?"

"Perfectly," he said and paused, working the fork through the cake. "Well, mostly. You're right, it's been a week."

"Is it anything you want to talk about?"

"Like what?" Ori asked, looking up at him with wide eyes that he hoped were at least a little innocent.

"I...well I don't rightly know," Bofur replied quietly.

"What about yourself?" Ori asked after a moment, forking over a portion of the cake.

Bofur picked at the cake, starting on the bottom layer and separating it from the frosting, "Nothing much I can think of, really.  I mean this whole thing last night is..." He shook his head, "Not rightly sure how to put it to words."

"I'm going with mind numbingly terrifying," Ori offered quietly enough.

Bofur nodded very slightly, "Just have to be extra careful and on our guard.  Never out alone, preferably in groups of three."

"Three?" Ori sighed. "It was hard enough to round one person up to go shopping this week, let alone two others."

"Group of two can work, but three's better right now," Bofur murmured.  Dori finally brought out two cups of tea, setting one down for each of them before retreating to the kitchen again.  Bofur eyed the tea warily, not certain he trusted Dori to not have poisoned it.

Ori looked between Dori's retreat and the tea like he was considering the same question. "I think he believes tea to be too sacred to poison," he said under his breath.

That earned a half nervous laugh, Bofur speaking in an undertone, "So I should be safe to risk it?"

"I'll be ready to run for Oin but it should be necessary," Ori agreed, leaning a bit closer to whisper.

Grinning slightly, Bofur nodded, "Well, I'll take that risk then."  He lifted the cup in a sort of toast to Ori before taking a sip.

"Try not to die," Ori said cheerily enough, finally starting to eat the cake and pausing, not used to the taste of dark chocolate.

He set the teacup down and returned to dismantling his piece of cake before murmuring to Ori, "I probably shouldn't say I prefer your tea, hm?"

"Certainly not," Ori agreed, taking even longer to swallow the next bite he took. "I can't imagine how he'd react."

Bofur opened his mouth to respond, but caught motion out of the corner of his eye and leaned back when he spotted Dori leaning against the kitchen doorframe just behind Ori's shoulder. Ori blinked and tilted his head back enough to look at his brother. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather join us?" he asked, unsure why Dori's gaze made his stomach turn over.

"No, you two seem to be doing just fine on your own," Dori replied, his gaze locked on Bofur.  He was currently in a debate with himself about how serious he found this situation and if it warranted being in a room alone with their middle brother long enough to talk to him about it.

Ori considered his brother before offering him a smile and carefully eating more of the cake. Since Dori disapproved of chocolate so much, he rarely ate so much of it.

"You're going to make yourself ill," Dori muttered, but returned to the kitchen.

"I'm not sure there's enough cake for that," Ori remarked calmly enough, looking back at Bofur.

Bofur offered him a nervous smile, tugging on his right braid, "No, not split between two there isn't.  Do you like chocolate then?"

"I certainly do today," Ori said. "I've so rarely had it before."

Opening his mouth to respond with surprise, Bofur closed it again as he considered who had raised Ori, "Well, liking it today's just as good as anything then."

"Nori used to eat a lot of sweets, just to annoy Dori," Ori said after a moment. "I just never did. But I do enjoy it, thank you."

"You're welcome," Bofur murmured.

"It was very kind of you," Ori said, still looking down.

"You looked like you could use it," Bofur replied, quietly.

"Than thank you for noticing that."

"More people should.  Your brothers are good, but sometimes you need someone outside the family to notice."

"That would certainly--" Ori started and paused, changing tense. "Is certainly, nice."

Bofur offered him a bit of a smile, glancing up as he heard Dori clear his throat in the kitchen, "He's going to give himself conniptions."

"He might already have done so," Ori managed, not quite sighing.

"Is he like this about everyone?"  Bofur asked after a moment.

"Everyone?" Ori repeated and paused. "I don't think so? He likes Dwalin at least, and Dis. I don't think many people have ever shown up with chocolate cake for me though so I couldn't give you a comparison."

Bofur tugged on his right braid, considering that before he nodded, "Well, then I guess I should tread light around him if there's no comparison."

Ori frowned at him for a moment before shrugging off whether or not he saw any implications in that statement, and finishing the portion of the cake he had.

Bofur set his fork down a minute later, having finished his own serving, and glanced toward the kitchen, "I really did just come to see how you were doing."

"And thank you for that," Ori said, shifting slightly and almost wanting to ask if that was really only it but keeping his mouth firmly shut.

Pulling on his braid again, Bofur finally rose, "If...if you need anything, even just someone to talk to, let me know?"

"I will," Ori assured him with a smile, looking up.

Bofur offered him a grin and a bow in response, "Then I bid you a good day, Master Ori."

"And a good day to yourself, Mister Bofur," Ori replied, swallowing past his dry throat.

Bofur paused for another moment before slipping out of the apartment, closing the door softly behind him.  Dori emerged from the kitchen to consider his youngest brother.

"Are you going to say something?" Ori asked, turning his tea cup around in a circle on the table.

"Can't think of anything that needs saying."

"Because despite that you really look like there's something you'd prefer to say," Ori finally looked over at him.

"I'm not entirely sure what I think of him."

"Does it matter so much what you think of it?" Ori had to ask and wished he hadn't.

Dori frowned slightly at that, "He's a rogue."

"So is Nori," Ori said. "And for that matter so is just about everyone who lives in this building. What makes him different from the others?"

"I don't trust him with you," Dori answered evenly.

Ori actually paused for a moment. "Is there anyone you would trust with me?" he asked, hoping his voice sounded mild enough.

His brother offered him a long look, "No.  Though there may be some I would trust more than others."

"Like who?" he asked, finally rising and gathering the dishes upp.

"Not him," Dori replied, searching for anyone he would even slightly consider actually trusting with his younger brother and drawing a blank.

"Brother," Ori started, unsure what to actually say. "I just like spending time with him, like I do with Bombur and Bifur. He makes me smile, that's all." It was a lie and he only hoped it didn't obviously show. Because smiling certainly wasn't all of it.

Dori looked skeptical, but finally nodded, "I'll take your word for it."

"Will you really?" Ori asked under his breath.

"Until I see reason not to."  Dori paused for a moment, and shook his head, deciding that it was best not to say anything else.

Ori shot him a quick look before shrugging. Dori glanced toward the door, "I was going to go speak with some of the others about a couple of things.  Will you be alright here for a while?"

"Of course," Ori said, filing the sink to wash the dishes. "I've been here alone without harm plenty of times."

Dori pinched the bridge of his nose but chose not to respond to that, exiting the apartment and heading for Nori's. Nori opened the door in confusion when Dori knocked on it. "Yeah?" he asked, face going pale. "Nothing happened to Ori, did it?" he asked, certain that would be the only reason for Dori coming to his door.

"Nothing's happened to him, no," Dori answered, looking displeased to be there. "But it does involve him.  We need to talk."

"Um, alright," Nori said, stepping back and holding the door open, motioning his older brother inside. At least due to the fire, he hadn't had time to accumulate too much of a mess or Dori probably would have collapsed on the floor in distaste. As it was, the place almost looked clean.

Dori's eyes flickered around but he nodded as he stepped inside, "Your friend Bofur came by the apartment today with a chocolate cake for Ori."

"Bofur?" Nori frowned. "Why you gotta call him my friend like that? Besides," he frowned. "I didn't even know Ori liked chocolate."

"He doesn't eat it much, but he seemed to enjoy the cake. I want to know if you know anything more than I do regarding Bofur and Ori."

"What more is there to know?" Nori asked with a frown, not having been there with Bombur and Bifur to witness the fiasco with the carving or Bofur's reaction. "I mean, I asked Bofur once and he seemed to insist he had no intentions one way or another."

"Which entirely explains why he brought him an entire cake because it's been a rough week.  They spent the next twenty minutes speaking in low tones over the dining table," Dori responded, crossing his arms.  "Besides, how likely is he to tell you the truth to a question like that?"

"He's not that good at lying," Nori started to point out and stopped, considering that new information. "Though apparently he's good at changing his mind. You know, Bombur and Bifur probably know more."

Dori grimaced at that, "Well Ori seems taken with him, whether he knows it himself or not."

"You did remember that Ori gave him that crochet blanket he spent weeks on, right?" Nori said and shook his head slightly as he realized it himself. "I think Ori's pretty aware of whatever he's feeling."

Dori grimaced, "I had forgotten that.  Well in that case whatever this is has our brother lying to me too."

"Um, Dori," Nori said, looking over at him. "Do you really think Ori would tell you anything with you tsking and glaring in disapproval?"

Running a hand over his face, the elder brother huffed, "No I don't suppose he would.  Doesn’t change the fact that I don't care for Bofur and don't like him around Ori much at all."

For a long moment, Nori just considered his brother. "This isn't a particular endorsement of what's going on, but Dori, if you approve or not do you think that's gonna matter?"

He sighed at that, shaking his head, "No.  No I really don't think it will matter.  That doesn't mean I have to be happy about that fact."

"On the other hand," Nori said, pulling at the left side of his braided beard. "It might be nice if he has some support too. For his sake, not anyone else's."

Dori crossed his arms at that, but nodded grudgingly, "Do you trust Bofur?"

"With my life, not with my brother," Nori replied promptly, not having to give much thought to the answer. "But that doesn't matter much. I mean, I'm not saying this is ideal, and like so much of our lives it's probably not the wisest course of action. But I'd rather see Ori be happy if he can."

"What do we do, then, Nori?  If Ori really does think that Bofur can make him happy, I mean."

"Well," Nori pulled his beard again, watching his brother and trying to remember if Dori had ever asked his advice on anything, especially their younger brother. "Start praying to whatever deity you chose to hope it works. And possibly offer up some support for Ori, because it is going to come down to his choice."

"We would be within our rights to threaten Bofur, yes?"  Dori mused.

"Well, of course," Nori agreed.

"Good," Dori nodded decisively.  "Well, I think that was all I had to say."

"Are you doing alright?" Nori asked, almost cautiously before his brother could leave.

"I'm fine, Nori.  I just wish he'd never grown up," Dori responded after a moment, his hand resting on the doorknob.

"He always was your baby after mother died," Nori said, not quite fond but almost. "Though, I meant, how are you? With moving and everything? I saw Ori got you your tea but--"

Dori paused at that, turning to look at his brother again in some surprise, "I...I'm adjusting.  As always, it's all we can do, right?"

"Well, if you need anything," Nori offered awkwardly.

"…Thank you, Nori.  And, and you?  Are you doing alright?"

"I adjust to things pretty fast," Nori said with a shrug and a laugh. "Besides, never been as tied down as you."

"I'm glad to hear it," Dori said.  He had meant the words to be almost rote, but they came out sounding sincere, surprising him.

Nori blinked, also surprised before offering his older brother a smile. "Thanks for that then."

Dori offered a faint smile in return, "Take care of yourself, Nori.  Stay safe."

"I'm pretty good at that, I have to say," Nori agreed. "It comes from running very fast away from things."

That earned another wry smile, "Still.  Take care."

"I'll do my best if you do the same," Nori said, inclining his head to his brother.

Dori nodded, "Always."  With that he slipped out of Nori's apartment, closing the door softly behind himself.

w-w-w

That evening, the sky already dark outside, Thorin stepped up the stairs, head lifting at where Dwalin was leaning against the railing outside their apartments. "You're going to pitch a fit at me, aren't you?" Thorin asked, arching a brow and Dwalin grunted.

"At least you're not entirely unaware," he said, arms crossed over his chest and sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing the variety of tattoos he had on his forearms there were hidden during his legitimate job.

"Balin warned me a long time ago," Thorin said, leaning on the railing opposite Dwalin and slipping his hands into his pockets. "As if I wouldn't have figured it for myself."

"He's an outsider," Dwalin said, eyes narrowing slightly at the fact Balin had figured anything out and not warned him. His brother and he often had different ideas though, so it was hardly new. "He's also insanely young and has no idea of the world. Do you think our lifestyle is fit for gentlefolk like him? It's like we're in the wilderness and he's never left his hearth fire."

Thorin's mouth thinned, having thought of that many times himself. "Gandalf would be like to tell you he might surprise you."

"Gandalf assumes the best in people," Dwalin scoffed. "He's an old fool."

"Who has saved our lives," Thorin pointed out. "As much as us him. We fought together, did that not incline you at all to trust him?"

"That was a decade ago," Dwalin returned. "And in a different world. Times have changed and we're not longer in the same war."

"And you think I should not have brought him into it," Thorin said, switching the subject back to Bilbo and Dwalin nodded. "I do not think I should have brought him into it, either, but what's done is done."

"It has been many years since you took a lover," Dwalin said after a pause. "What made you change your mind for one such as him?"

Thorin looked to the side, back down the stairs and considered before he dared to meet Dwalin's eyes again. "Because he has consistently proven me wrong. Because for some reason he stands by us and I know you do not trust that in outsiders, but he's given me no cause for doubt."

"And when he does?" Dwalin demanded.

"Then I will deal with that when it comes," Thorin replied calmly enough.

For a moment they just stared at each other. "Besides," Thorin said after a moment, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a smile. "It's not like you should be one to lecture me on taking lovers. Do you honestly never intend to tell my sister your feelings for her?"

Dwalin shifted, uncomfortableness entering his posture. "There's nothing worth telling," he said, into his beard and looking down slightly.

"Don't try to play me a fool," Thorin shook his head. "I know you've loved her for years."

"She made her choice a long time ago," Dwalin replied. "I would not disrespect that."

Thorin arched a brow. "And that man she chose has been dead for over a decade, since before we returned from the warfront. We may lose those we love but that does not mean we cannot love again."

"As you would know?" Dwalin pressed and Thorin looked down the stairs, eyes widening slightly. Not noticing what he was looking at, Dwalin continued. "Besides, she's always deserved better than me."

Dis was standing three stairs down from them, a frown on her features.  She'd been there long enough to hear herself brought into the conversation and Dawlin's response.  "Don't you think that's for me to decide, Master Dwalin?"

Dwalin's shoulders tensed and he glared at Thorin, as if accusing him of letting Dwalin walk himself into this conversation before he slowly looked down the stairs. "My feelings were not your burden to bear."

Gaping at him, Dis shook her head as she climbed the stairs to the landing, "So I was never to hear because you were what?  Afraid?  Because you thought I wouldn't think you worth it?"

Dwalin blinked once in confirmation, not necessarily wanting to say it aloud. "Yes, somewhat," he settled for finally. "You had a husband and then your sons to worry about. I did not want to--" he paused, daring to look over at Thorin who looked caught between laughter and smacking his childhood friend in the head. "Interfere."

"As my brother so reasonably put it, my husband has been dead for over a decade now."  She drew a deep breath to address the rest, "You honestly believe you would have been interfering?  You've practically helped raise my sons regardless.  Kept them safe for me, taught them how to keep themselves safe."

Dwalin barely managed to say that considering last night he'd done a very poor job of it, shifting his shoulders instead. "And I did not wish you to think I was doing those things for want of something else."

"Oh for the love... I'm glad to know what you think of my ability to judge a man's character."

The arms over his chest started to look defensive. "No," Thorin said, cutting in finally. "I think it's less a judgment of you and more of him spending too much time in his own head."

"That is not something people usually accuse me of," Dwalin said, shooting Thorin another dark look.

Dis rocked back on her heels at that, considering for a moment as she glanced at her brother and back to Dwalin, "But perhaps a fair accusation in this situation."

Dwalin scowled into his beard. "Perhaps," he agreed finally, considering how often he had once thought about her knowing he could never say anything after she married. Even when her mourning had passed he had never accepted it in his head.

Before Thorin could cut in again a pounding knock came at the door and both he and Dwalin's heads whipped around to stare down the stairs.

Dis half-turned, staying where she was, but her gaze focused down the stairs, waiting for some indication of who might be at the door. The knock came again, more insistent this time and a relatively faint "Police, open up" drifted up to them.

"Who's on watch?" Thorin demanded, heading down the stairs.

"Bombur and Balin," Dwalin called after him, looking back at Dis for a long moment before falling Thorin down the stairs.

Dis waited to follow, stopping on the second floor where she'd be more able to hear what was said, while still out of sight and range if need be. 

Balin was waiting near the door for Thorin's indication that they should open the door, even as Bard knocked on it yet again.

Pausing near the foot of the stairs, Thorin nodded, one hand braced on the banister to spring over it if he needed to, the other resting near where he wore his revolver.

Balin opened the door to let Bard and Thranduil inside, closing the door once the officers had entered.

"And what brings you here?" Thorin asked, not changing his posture.

"Bolg's body was found near here," Thranduil replied, looking around, and shifting at where Thorin and Dwalin were staring them down, Balin, Bombur and Bifur spread throughout the lobby.

"And as ever you assume it was us?" Thorin asked, tilting a brow and Thranduil ground his teeth together.

"It wasn't even two streets from here, so yes."

Balin frowned, "And the thought that this could be a frame-job never crossed your minds?"

"It always crosses our minds," Thranduil returned. "You do understand the idea of investigation and chasing down all leads?" he asked. "Besides, he was killed in that street, not dumped there."

"Do you have questions or just veiled accusations?"  Balin responded, eying the officers.

"Well, we would like to know where everyone was on Friday evening," Thranduil said with a sigh. "Isn't it lucky that dead people always show up on Friday night for you?"

"Which one would think means that you know where we were already," Balin murmured.

Bard shook his head, "Normally.  We went by Gandalf's already, the cook said you lot left before you even got your meals last night."

"And that not all of you were there," Thranduil added. "According to one of the waiters you were missing Fili and Kili."

Balin crossed his arms, eying them, "We came straight home from dinner."  He glanced at Thorin, they couldn't supply anything for FIli and Kili without risking one of the young men contradicting them in the future.

"Of course you did," Thranduil agreed. "But you only have each other to confirm that."

"And Bilbo Baggins," Dwalin said and Thorin tried not to glare at him.

There was a beat and Thranduil shrugged. "Alright. May I speak to your nephews?"

Bard bit back the comment about Bilbo seeming to be around an awful lot at convenient times for alibis and witnesses.  The look Balin gave Thorin was neutral, though if the officers saw Fili and Kili there was likely to be little doubt of what had happened.

"And this cannot wait?" Thorin asked, mildly enough and Thranduil's brows went up.

"I'd rather do it now," he said. "Or I could see about getting a warrant for this place to see if there's anything to find."

Thorin's mouth thinned, aware it wasn't an idle threat as they were in a position that implied their guilt. "Very well," he said, with a tight nod, hand tightening on the banister.

Hearing that, Dis murmured a soft prayer and moved from her place out of sight of the stairs to knock on her sons' door.

There was a pause before Fili opened it, having heard nothing from downstairs yet. "What is it?" he asked, peeking out and freezing as he saw the flashes of uniform from down the stairs.

"Officers Thranduil and Bard want to speak with you and your brother," Dis said in an undertone.  "Fili, remember for the love of all we hold dear, answer nothing but a directly stated question and even then hedge if you can."

Fili opened his mouth, and snapped it shut, shaking his head slightly. "I'm not sure what I could say," he hissed. "That they wouldn't figure by _looking_ at us."

"That is something I don't know, but I know that something will arise.  Please, don't do anything rash."

"Alright," he tired to assure as Thorin led the other's up the stairs and Fili leaned against the door way, motioning Kili to stay inside.

Dis stepped away from the door, her eyes moving to Thorin before she turned her attention on Thranduil and Bard warily.  Bard glanced at her and his eyebrows rose before he looked back at Fili, taking in his condition and frowning, "You certainly are looking the worse for the wear."

"As happens," Fili said mildly. "Can I help you with something?"

"I hope so," Bard replied.  "Where were you last night?"

Fili rolled a shoulder, carefully not wincing. "Out."

"Can you be more specific than that?" Bard asked with a frown.

"Not really," Fili said, as calmly as he could.

Bard eyed him, "You're doing a lousy job providing an alibi."

Fili barely managed not to tense. "Is there something I must provide an alibi for?"

"Azog's son was found dead just a couple blocks from here.  You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?" Bard finally asked directly.

"Certainly not," Fili said, sounding almost offended and wishing he'd had the chance to put on a coat and something that would have at least covered the bandages on his neck. A scarf would have certainly worked.

Bard looked skeptical, "And what happened to you, then?"

Fili shrugged, Kili finally approaching the door and Fili wanted to slap him or shoo him into the bedroom. "Does that matter?" Kili asked and Thranduil sucked in a deep breath on seeing the other Ereborian.

Bard's eyes widened slightly when he got a good look at both of them, "I think it very well could, yes."

"And do you have any proof?" Kili asked, Fili opening his mouth behind the police officer's and before he could say anything Thorin tangled his hand in Fili's hair and yanked his head back to keep him quiet.

Letting out a yelp, Fili snapped his mouth shut.

"We're running down some possibilities," Bard responded, glancing toward Fili and raising his eyebrows.

Fili just shrugged slightly, looking away.

"Where were you last night?" Bard asked, turning his attention back to Kili.

"Out for a walk with my brother," Kili said with a shrug.

Bard drew a breath, "And where did that walk take you?"

"Down town," Kili said, Fili falling silent and somewhat surprised how calmly Kili was answering considering last night.

"And this happened to you there?" Bard arched an eyebrow.

"We got jumped," Kili said with another careful shrug, pulling against his ribs and barely not wincing.

“Did you get a description of the guys who jumped you?"

"No, it got pretty blurred and we clearly got our asses handed over," Kili said with a small frown. "But there were three of them, I think."

Bard frowned at that, looking them over, "I see."  He glanced at Thranduil.

Thranduil shrugged, considering that it had been a bad idea to question the brothers together, though they'd probably had enough time to create a cover story. Approaching the window he stopped, a hand lifting the curtain and he stopped breathing for a moment. "Thorin," he said, tone dropping.

Balin looked in that direction, tensing at the sound of Thorin's name.  Bofur came down the stairs from the third floor where he'd been keeping watch, "Thorin.  Coming up the road..."

Thorin looked over at Bofur and pounded over to the window, Thranduil's hand shaking on the curtain. Several of Azog's men had already taken up positions in the road heading to the building and the tall albino was walking down the street, dragging a blond with him.

Legolas struggled, trying desperately to pull away from Azog's grip, but finding it futile. Balin stopped at the window by Thranduil and Thorin, "I'll get some of the others in position upstairs."

Thranduil didn't even move, eyes wide.

"Get Dwalin too, I want to make sure he’s down here with me," Thorin said. "Fili, Bofur, Gloin and Nori upstairs, they have the sharpest eyes. Keep the women and children who won't fight away from the windows. I don't know how much they've surrounded the building."

Balin nodded, motioning Fili and Bofur to accompany him up stairs and pausing long enough to send his brother to Thorin's side.  Dis didn't move from just inside the door of the room, "Where do you want me, brother?"

Thorin watched as Kili followed Fili. "Where ever you want," he said, looking over. "You have sharp eyes, if you want to go with your sons. I would not mind you at my side, but it will be safer up there."

She looked around the room, "I would stand by your side for this."

"Alright," he said, nodding. "Then we need to figure out what Azog wants."

"Our blood, most like," Dwalin remarked from the door, not looking at Dis at all happily.

Dis glanced out the window, "We've got a defensible position, but that's not going to do us much good if he plays the ace he's carrying."  She glanced at her brother, "How do we go about this, Thorin?"

"We're going to have to talk," Thorin said. "Protocol would be for him to request a meeting." With a pause he shoved the window open, pushing Thranduil out of the way. He’d worry about how the cops were reacting to their preperations later. "Azog," he called down, aware he was putting himself in danger. "What can we do for you?"

Dis pressed her back against the wall by the window, giving herself a view up the street to where some of Azog's men were positioned.

Bard spoke quietly from where he still was near the door, "Thranduil, you can't honestly be alright with--"

Dis spoke before he finished and before Thranduil could, "His son is out there, Officer.  Unless you would like to add that young man's blood to your hands, help us."

Thranduil looked first from Bard to Dis before nodding curtly.

Azog laughed down on the street, dragging Legolas in front of him as a shield. "Sons for sons, don't you think?" he called and Thorin let out a long breath. "Take mine, I take yours. Starting with this one and I'm sure I'll find your nephews soon enough. They count as your sons, don't they?"

Dis drew a sharp breath at that, her gaze darting to Thorin, "We need to get him away from the direct range of his men.  We can't do anything with the boy there.  Even if someone could make that shot..."

"Fili could," Thorin murmured and looked up. "But his wrist," he shook his head. "Azog," he called as the albino stroked a  hand over Legolas' hair. "Would you meet with us?"

"I could just shoot the boy and burn your house down again," Azog called back.

"But that would be so impersonal," Thorin drawled.

Azog laughed. "Perhaps you're right."

"What are you thinking?" Dwalin hissed in Thorin's ear.

Legolas shuddered, recoiling as much as he could at the touch.  Dis drew a deep breath, glancing at her brother, "If we can get him in the entry, there's three different angles from the stairwell, and four from the side rooms.  The problem with the first floor is there's pretty direct shots from the street into those rooms."

Thorin shook his head slightly. "It won't be here," he murmured, watching Legolas and the way that Thranduil's hands twisted around the curtains. "So you would agree to a meeting?"

"A parley?" Azog laughed. "You think I would be stupid enough to walk in there?"

"Somewhere else then?" Thorin called down.

Dis' eyes widened, murmuring, "Thorin, anywhere he offers will be riddled with traps.  We'll lose you and the boy."

"He's too stupid to set traps, and I won't go alone," Thorin returned quietly before calling. "Where, Azog?"

"Down by the docks, don't you think?" Azog called back. "I'll keep the boy."

"Where down there?" Bard asked.

"I'm sure Thorin knows the place," Azog laughed. "And hour then?"

Dis glanced at her brother, still looking wary, but they could get what they needed in that time.

"An hour then," Thorin agreed, looking at Thranduil as Azog turned, still dragging Legolas. "He'd only kill him while you're watching."

"Is that supposed to help?" Thranduil managed.

"It means he'll still be alive when we get there," Thorin said, already stepping back and yelling up the stairs for the others.

There was clattering on the stairs and the others were quickly assembled on the second floor landing, having heard the conversation between Thorin and Azog..

"Are you mad?" Fili demanded, Kili hanging off his shoulder.

"You two will stay here," Thorin said.

"Great, so he can burn the place down with us in it?" Fili snapped and drew back at Thorin's glare.

Dis frowned at her sons, "They'd have to get close enough to do that.  We'll have decent shots at them before that happens. We’re watching for it this time after all."

Fili swallowed and nodded. "Who are you taking then?" he asked.

Thorin glanced around the company. "Dwalin, Gloin, Bombur, Bofur, and Dori. Nori, Bifur and Oin, you guard here. Balin, I want you to try and contact Gandalf. Fili, Kili, Dis, keep a look out."

He received a round of nods, Balin already running down ways to get word to Gandalf.  Dis spoke quietly, glancing toward Bard and Thranduil, "And them, brother?"

“Well, I was hoping they might be able to call in the police as well," Thorin said, arching a brow.

Bard's jaw tensed, but he nodded, "We'll need to know where we're calling them in to, though.  And what as well."

"And what?" Thorin asked in some disbelief before writing down the address. "A gang war, most like. Would you like to take Azog down or not?"

Bard took the slip of paper, "Just wanted to be clear on that point.  We'll be there."

"Good," Thorin said.

"I'm staying with you," Thranduil said with a stubborn set to his jaw that had Thorin looking over at him and shaking his head slightly.

"If you wish it," he agreed finally.

"Has the street below cleared?"  Bard asked.

Dis had gone back to check the window and returned, "It's clear.  Wait three minutes before you go and then take as many back-routes as you know."

The officer nodded slightly at that, checking his sidearm automatically.

"And good luck," Thorin added.

Bard inclined his head slightly, "You as well."

Balin checked his own weapon, "I'll go try and reach Gandalf now, hopefully I'll be through before any of this comes to an end."

The group split at that, those going with Thorin fetching their preferred weapons, Balin disappearing to try and reach Gandalf by phone, and Bard slipping out to see if he could gain help from the police.

w-w-w

Approaching the agreed upon meeting place, Thorin's company kept a wary eye out for places that Azog might have set his men as front line guards while at the same time watching for decent vantages should it come to a fight--which it was expected to.  They were all well armed and on guard against any attacks, should they come.

"Go around back," Thorin said, glancing at Bofur and Gloin. "We aren't putting everyone through the front door."

"There's no sign of the police yet," Dwalin muttered.

"They're probably still arguing about it," Thranduil admitted, adjusting his cap again.

Dwalin shot him a disgusted look and shook his head.

Bofur nodded at the instruction, clapping a hand on Gloin's shoulder and starting to loop around the building. Dori frowned ever so slightly, glancing toward Thranduil, "They will show up, right?"

"I hope so," Thranduil said, hoping Bard would have the wisdom to go to the Commissioner and not some lower level lackey.

Thorin rolled his shoulders. "We should be enough for a threat to Azog."

"Depending on who he brought with him," Dwalin amended, though he was grinning already at the prospect of a brawl.

"And how many," Bombur agreed.

Dori glanced at his watch, his other hand brushing the butt of one of his guns, "Ten minutes til the agreed upon time."

"Are we crashing in early?" Dwalin asked, looking over.

"It may put the boy in more danger," Thorin said and ignored the way Thranduil tensed.

"Think he's already in a lot of danger," Dwalin rumbled, not sparing Thranduil even a look.

"If we're asking opinions m vote's to wait a few more minutes," Bombur responded mutedly, glancing at Thranduil.  "No sense in taking the chance of making a bad situation worse."

"We could be walking into a worse trap for writing," Dwalin protested and Thorin checked his watch again before stepping closer to the building.

"I doubt he'll notice we're minutes early," he said, approaching the warehouse. There was no protest to that, Bombur and Dori falling in behind Thorin, hands on their weapons as they reached the door to the warehouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating right before class, so enjoy your cliffhanger.


	13. And I'd Like to See that Promise Written in Triplicate

As they entered, Azog was nowhere in sight, but a dozen or so of his men tensed.  One of them stepped forward slightly, "You've got an awful lot of weapons for a parley."

"You have more," Thorin said, looking around the mostly large room, tilting his head back to where there was a walkway up above.

"Now you know we can't be letting you in with the boss with all those," came the response, even as he nodded to one of the others to let Azog know that Thorin had arrived.

"Of course not," Thorin said, spreading his arms and dropping the guns he had on his person. "But we're hardly all going to talk to your master now, are we?"

The lackey narrowed his eyes, "Which ones of you are, then?"

Thorin glanced around the group quickly. "Dori," he motioned the other forward, "And Thranduil." Dwalin hissed at those choices and Thorin silenced him with a look, inclining his head at the various gang members already there.

Dori dropped his weapons by Bombur's feet before joining Thorin.  Bombur made quick work of gathering them up so that they wouldn't become weapons of opportunity for Azog's gang.

Thorin handed what he had to Dwalin and Thranduil paused before giving Bombur the one duty pistol he carried. "Alright then?" Thorin said, spreading his hands out.

Azog's minion nodded, offering them a mocking bow, "Right this way, gentlemen."

Dwalin looked like he wanted to snarl again as Thorin stepped after the minion, arms crossed over his chest.

Dori followed behind the other three, keeping a wary eye on the rest of Azog's men.  He stopped a couple of paces behind Thorin, gaze darting around as the minion retreated back to the others.  It was a large space, partially separated from the main floor by a stack of crates acting as a divider.

Legolas looked up from where he was against the far wall, his eyes widening slightly when he saw his father, "Ada!"  His hair had come loose from where he usually kept it pulled back, falling over his face, and he took a step toward THranduil before he thought about it.

Looking up from where he was sitting on one of the crates, nail file out because he was bored rather than any desire to stay neat, Azog pinned Legolas with a glare. His gun sat across his leg and he looked over at Thorin with a feral smile. "So you came. How noble of you. And you even gave up your weapons too."

Thorin's smile was thin as Thranduil swayed slightly behind him. "Nobility seems to be a trait that runs in the blood.

Azog scowled.

The teen froze at the look, his gaze darting from Azog to his father, his hands shaking.  Dori instinctively laid a calming hand on Thranduil's elbow, drawing back almost immediately, "Noble or not, we're here and we were under the impression it was for a parley and talk?"

"Certainly," Azog drawled, rising, keeping the rifle he had the crook of his elbow, revolver obvious on his hip. "Though perhaps less of a parley and more of getting you out and somewhere I can see and shoot you. Because," he stepped in front of Thorin, causing the other to tilt his head back slightly. "You took my son from me."

"You don't have the proof," Thorin replied.

"Really?" Azog tilted forward again, Thorin standing his ground.

Dori frowned, his gaze flickering to where Legolas stood, watching with wide eyes, "Why involve the boy?"

"Because I told his father I would," Azog said with a cold smile. "And it's time to take sons away isn't it?"

Dori bit back the first response he had to that, glancing at Thorin out of the corner of his eye.

Thranduil had tensed, wishing he hadn't given up his gun and looking like he might spring on Azog with his bare hands around the man's throat. Before the albino man could say or do anything else, a shot was heard from behind the towering stack of crates, followed quickly by a succession of others.

Tracking where it was from, Thorin bit back a sigh about Bofur and Gloin being trigger happy, figuring they ran into something unexpected at the back door. "Dori," he barked, expecting the other to understand him as Azog snarled and lifted the riffle.

Nodding once and quickly uncoiling a bullwhip from where he had kept it wrapped around his waist, Dori snapped it out, wrapping it around the barrel of the rifle and yanking to pull it away from Azog.

Eyes widening in alarm at that, Azog took a step back as more shots from the front entrance rang out, Thranduil looking relieved for a moment that Bard had the wisdom to go to the top to get men ready. Even as a minion ran around the corner to warn Azog of the attack from two sides, Thorin drew a smaller revolver from the folds of his coat, shooting the man between the eyes and dropping him before turning back to Azog.

Pausing long enough to scoop the rifle up, Dori shoved it toward Thranduil and readied his whip again as he withdrew a light dagger.  Turning it around, he held the tip between two gloved fingers, ready to throw.

Azog had pulled Legolas in front of him, pistol pressed against his temple. "I suppose I should feel betrayed about you having called in the police," he sighed. "But I just can't work up the energy."

Thranduil stepped forward, riffle up but knowing he couldn't fire it, Thorin freezing as Azog started stepping backward toward the stairs.

Legolas's expression was panicked and he tried to twist out of Azog's grip, the cold metal of the gun barrel finally sinking into his consciousness and causing him to still his struggle.  His blue eyes locked on his father's even as he stumbled backward as Azog dragged him along, Dori swearing under his breath when he calculated where the stairs would take them and how many likely approaches there were to the walkway.

"If you shoot the boy, you won't have a way out," Thorin said, trying to make his voice calm, an arm across Thranduil's chest to keep him back.

"Probably not," Azog said, taking a few steps up the stairs backward. Once up on the walkway, he'd be able to run over the entire warehouse and out a side exit not swarmed with police or gang members with guns.

Slipping on the second stair, Legolas felt his ankle twist and yelped as between that and Azog's grip, his body was wrenched.  Dori's entire body tensed, judging angles and the chances of anyone actually managing to stop Azog from where they were.

Thorin wavered, trying to judge how far Azog would get, dragging the boy with him.

Legolas tried to pull away again as Azog dragged him the rest of the way up the stairs.  Gaze still locked on them, Dori spoke under his breath to Thorin when he recalled scouting he'd done, "There's a fire escape across the building.  I'm willing to bet that lets out there."

"He wouldn't be going up there without an exit," Thorin agreed and waiting another breath before pounding up the stairs, Thranduil on his heels.

Catching sight of the door on the other end of the walkway, Legolas redoubled his efforts to twist away.  He knew how little use he would be beyond slowing Azog down once they reached that door and all he could think was what that would do to his father.

Azog snarled as Legolas twisted away, focused enough on keeping him still that he didn't hear Thranduil's footsteps. Even though the officer was running full tilt, his footsteps were nearly silent. Slamming himself into Azog's back, the pistol Azog held went wide, shooting the wall instead of Legolas.

Legolas yanked hard at the same time his father hit Azog.  He felt something pull and twist in his shoulder, but he broke Azog's grip, stumbling away from the ganglord and nearly off-balancing.

Rearing backwards, Azog unbalanced Thranduil, throwing him backward and against the railing of the walkway, the police firing on the gang members below them in the main warehouse, Bombur and Dwalin braced behind a pile of crates and firing, Dwalin looking up when he heard a shot go out above.

His eyes widened as he saw Thorin approaching Azog on the walkway.

"Would you shoot me?" Azog asked, waving his gun around in Thorin's face and Thorin hesitated before shooting Azog's hand, sending the gun falling to the ground below, Azog clutching his bleeding hand to his chest with a snarl.

"Gladly," Thorin agreed and Azog threw himself against Thorin, sending them both to the ground, injured hand slamming against Thorin's throat and Thorin dropped his own gun, skidding across the walkway floor.

Bofur glanced up at the second shot from above in time to see Thorin and Azog go crashing to the floor of the walkway.  Legolas pressed up against the railing, eyes fixed on them before he glanced toward his father.

Thranduil hesitated, trying to push himself back up as Thorin grappled with Azog. "I'll destroy your entire line," the taller snarled, shoving Thorin's head back against the walk way and drawing out a long, curved knife.

Downstairs, Dwalin froze, ignoring the bullet that flew by his cheek, raising his gun instead and firing on the walkway, hitting Azog in the leg. When he shrieked, Thorin surged up, flipping them over and grappling the knife out of Azog's hand.

A handful of Azog's men finally realized what was going on on the walkway and started toward the interior stairs, only to be met by Dori's whip and knives dipped in quick-acting poison.

Bofur and Gloin moved quickly to support Dori, having finally reached the back corner of the warehouse.

On the walkway, Azog clawed his hand toward Thorin's eyes, the blood from the wound bleeding onto his face, the other hand scrambling for the knife. Shaking his head to try and free it, Thorin slammed the knife against the side of Azog's head, not having the time to turn the blade toward the other. When Azog lay stunned, Thorin smashed the butt of the knife into his head again, the skull caving in before he turned the blade around and cut the jugular to make sure he lay dead.

Pushing himself away, Thorin shoved his heavy hair off his face, looking over at Thranduil who had moved enough to draw Legolas to his side, even as Bofur, Gloin and Dori rushed up the stairs.

Legolas turned away to bury his face against his father's chest, his blond hair falling loose to hide his face further.  Azog's men, what was left of them, realized they were vastly outnumbered and Azog wasn't around to kill them for not fighting.  They quickly surrendered.

Thorin leaned back on his heels, not rising. "Are we square then?" he asked, and Thranduil nodded quickly, shifting a hand to hold Legolas' shoulder, pulling him closer. "Then we shall go home," Thorin said quietly, looking over at the boy and taking a breath before pushing himself to his feet and swaying slightly.

Dori stepped forward to offer Thorin support, Bofur looking down at Azog's body, impassively.  Legolas felt himself shaking, not ready to let go of his father but knowing he would need to.

"Come along," Thranduil murmured to his son, walking with him so that he wouldn't have to let go either as Thorin lead the way down the stairs, leaning on Dori.

As they came down the stairs, Bard started forward but Gwaihir lay a hand on his arm and stopped him, "There is a group of Azog's men to be seen to."

"But, sir, we saw--"

"I saw a clear-cut case of self-defense."

"Sir!" Bard protested.

Gwaihir frowned at Bard, fixing him with a long look, "You have other cases to attend to, Officer.  Leave the gangs to their own wars and see to your other concerns."

"Sir--" Bard started to protest again.

"That is a direct order."

The younger man drew a breath, but nodded stiffly and turned away to see to the men who were rounding up the members of Azog's gang present, "Yes, sir."

Thranduil stopped in front of Gwahir, eyes widening in some surprise to see the commissioner himself there. "Sir," he said, even as Thorin and the rest of the Ereborians slipped out.

Gwaihir nodded at his officer, "Thranduil."  His gaze moved to Legolas, softening ever so slightly, "Go home.  I'll expect a report of some sort on my desk on Monday--at least regarding your interrogation of the Ereborians."  He half turned as one of the officers started toward where the Ereborians had left, "You, there, there are more than enough things to be doing."

"Sir, they're--"

Hazel eyes rolled skyward, "Oh for the love of God, let them go.  They've done nothing wrong here tonight.  Get this gang rounded up and down to the station.  I'd like to get started in time to finish before three o'clock tomorrow afternoon."

Thranduil blinked at him a long moment before smiling faintly and ushering Legolas out of the building and toward home.

Gwaihir rubbed a hand over his eyes and steeled himself for a long night of bookings and falsified interrogations.

w-w-w

Gimli had been keeping watch at one of the upstairs windows since Thorin and the others had left.  When he finally spotted them returning, he bolted down the stairs, skipping most of them and only pausing long enough to let Dis, Balin, and Ori know that they were coming up the street--it was too dark to see their condition but they all looked to be walking under their own strength.

Ori ran after Gimili's heels, Fili and Kili already sitting in the lobby, playing a card game awkwardly between them but having refused to wait in their own apartment.

Dis and Balin appeared in the entry at almost the same instant that the door opened, Bombur entering and holding the door for the others.

"I'm fine," Thorin was still trying to protest to Dwalin who was dodging his steps and looking like he'd rather strip the other to make sure of that. Blood still covered his face as it was and Fili and Kili both tensed when they saw him.

Dis' eyes widened and she crossed to her brother, not quite hovering but looking like she wanted to, "Is any of that blood yours?"

"No," he shook his head, rolling his shoulders to try and ease the strain out of them.

Gimli hesitated, looking around the group before making his way over to his father, "Is...is everyone alright?"

Gloin looked over. "Aye," he said, rubbing his shoulder where a bullet had grazed past it. "Any injuries are superficial at worst."

Standing on the last few steps, Ori looked around frantically, eyes landing on Bofur for one relieved moment before he snapped them over to Dori, who he scolded himself for not checking on first.

Not quite sure how to ask further, Gimli nodded, "And...did you manage what you set out to do?"

Dori moved over to his brother's side, patting him on the shoulder.  He really wanted to go upstairs and clean up, and then clean his weapons, clear the knives of blood and poison, and oil the leather of the whip.

"I'm glad you're alright," Ori murmured, leaning into the touch before stepping to the side, assuming that's what his brother wanted to do. Dori offered his brother a faint smile, and heading up the stairs.

Once Kili was sure his uncle was alright he glanced over to Gimli with a tiny frown, approaching. "Aye," Gloin was saying. "Azog's dead."

Gimli bit back a growl of frustration as his father didn't answer the question he had meant.  He couldn't outright ask after Legolas without giving away a whole hell of a lot more than he planned on, "So you got there in time then?"

"To, you know, save that boy," Kili tried to add helpfully and Gloin glanced over at him before back to his son.

"Aye," he nodded. "The boy was well enough, though he looked sick enough with the entire thing." Gloin paused for a moment, with a small frown. "Wasn't that the boy you fought so much with?"

Gimli shrugged, trying to brush that off, "Just cause we fight doesn't mean I want him hurt in something involving us."

"Not entirely sure it was just about us," Gloin said with a huff and a shrug. "But he's well enough. Might even be well enough to go to school on Monday." Kili glanced sideways at Gimli behind his father's back.

Gimli swallowed slightly and nodded, "Well that's something."

Gloin nodded, patting his son on the head tiredly. "I should go wash up," he murmured. "Before all the water gets used."

His son managed a weak smile at that, "Better hurry then."

Nodding, Gloin plodded up the stairs, leaving Kili still watching Gimli. Gimli offered Kili a long look, almost growling, "So goddamn lucky he's tired and doesn't piece those things together on a good day."

Kili tried not to laugh, just shaking his head and grinning. "I barely said a word. Besides, I'm injured. I have to find my fun somewhere."

"Your fun at my expense is not appreciated."

"It's really not my fault you're so damned entertaining," Kili said, still trying not to laugh as Fili approached behind his shoulder.

Gimli's eyes darted to Fili and he shook his head, "Well, now that I've got that information I'm headed upstairs.  Good night."

"Sleep well," Kili teased and Fili looked sideways at him. Muttering something under his breath, Gimli headed up the stairs, slipping past Ori.

Ori watched him go, looking back over the lobby, seeking out Bofur again and trying to convince himself to just leave. Bofur, having made certain Bombur was alright and headed upstairs, crossed to Ori, offering him a bit of a smile, "Hey."

"Hello," Ori managed, watching Bombur leave before dragging his eyes back. "And you're alright?"

Bofur nodded, "Bone-tired, but I'm alright.  No injuries."  He would not mention what a minor miracle that was, considering how close he'd come to getting himself shot again, repeatedly.

"I'm glad," Ori said softly, tilting forward before pressing himself back against the banister of the stairs.

Bofur reached up, gently touching one of Ori's braids before pulling his hand back quickly, "I should go get cleaned up a bit."

Eyes snapping wide, Ori stared at him a long moment, hand unconsciously coming up to tug on the same braid. "Y-yeah."

Bofur offered him another slight smile, "I'll be on my way then.  Good night, Ori."

"G-good night," he agreed quietly, Bifur watching them in something like despair from where he was only half listening to Dwalin who finally turned his own head to figure out what he was staring at.

Bofur nodded once more to Ori before disappearing up the stairs.

Ori watched him go with an almost dazed expression. Dwalin looked back at Bifur who sighed heavily. "And how long has that been going on?" Dwalin asked and Bifur just shook his head.

Dis was talking with her brother and Balin nearby and looked up at that question, glancing toward Dwalin.

Dwalin saw Dis look toward him and tensed, unsure what his footing was after their conversation earlier that night. He turned quickly to where Thorin was carefully wiping his face off with a damp cloth to clean off the blood.

"This is our chance," Dwalin said and Thorin glanced over. "With Azog dead, we can take his operations."

"I will not accept his men," Thorin said, scrubbing under his eye.

"Not his men," Dwalin dismissed quickly. "But his contacts, his routes, and the merchandise he brings in."

"We'll have to act quickly," Balin remarked.  "Smaug won't wait when he hears word of this."

"We have the advantage over him now," Dwalin continued.

Face clean, Thorin nodded. "Then press it."

"We'll start tonight, see what we can find," Balin agreed.

"Good," Thorin said, his hand shaking and he dropped the cloth on the counter, turning for the door.

"Where are you going?" Dwalin called after him and Thorin glanced over his shoulder, mouth twisting enough that Dwalin could guess and his own expression turned stormy.

Dis glanced between the two of them, confusion marking her face briefly before she cleared it.  Balin's lips turned upward very slightly, he carefully schooled his expression and glanced at Dwalin, "Come, brother, we should determine who will be going with us."

"Yes," Dwalin agreed as Thorin slipped outside.

w-w-w

Bilbo had retired for the night and had just shut off his lamp to attempt to sleep when he was startled to full wakefulness by a knock on his door.  He cautiously got out of bed, wrapping his bathrobe around himself and picking up a hefty candlestick that his mother had sent with him for reasons he couldn't determine--he was a college student, not hosting dinners.  He turned on the light in the living room and crossed to the door, peering through the peephole in the door and blinking for a long moment before opening it carefully, "Thorin?"

"Hello," he greeted quietly and frowned at the bathrobe. "You were asleep," he said, taking a step back. "I'm sorry."

Shaking his head, Bilbo opened the door wider, "I wasn't there yet.  Come on in."

Hesitating again, Thorin stepped inside. "I should know better than to disturb you so late."

Bilbo blinked at him in some confusion and looked at the clock, "Oh.  I hadn't actually realized the time.  Really, Thorin, it's not so late as that."  Except that it rather was.  He hesitated, not quite certain what to do with the other in his space, "Can...can I get you anything? Is everything alright?"

"It's fine," Thorin said, sliding a hand through Bilbo's hair. "And it is so late as all that. I just wanted to see you."

Leaning into the touch, the younger man looked up at him, "It's been less than a day, Thorin.  Not that I'm not glad to see you."

Thorin's chuckle was strained. "It's been a very long day. A very long two days."

"Do you wish to speak of it?"  Bilbo asked, reaching up to touch one of Thorin's braids that had come slightly undone.

Thorin realized there was still probably blood in his hair and took a deep breath. "Azog wanted vengeance for the death of his son," he said, unsure what else he could. "He kidnapped a boy and threatened Fili and Kili."

Bilbo's eyes widened and he drew his hand away from the braid to rest it against Thorin's cheek, "Are you all alright?"

"Yes," Thorin nodded. "We, at least, walked out of it alive."

"Thank God," Bilbo murmured.  He hesitated for a moment before leaning up to kiss Thorin gently.

Tilting his head down, Thorin tangled both his hands in Bilbo's curly hair, holding his face closer. Pressing up into the kiss, Bilbo pulled Thorin down a bit to ease the angle slightly. Chuckling, Thorin drew back slightly. "For having seen you this morning, I'm glad to see you."

Bilbo offered him a smile in return, "And I you."  He combed his fingers through Thorin's hair, but they tangled slightly and he pulled them out, flecks of dried blood on them.  Freezing for a moment, he saw in his mind's eyes a more thorough bath of blood for his hands.  Reminding himself that Thorin was in fact right in front of him and whole, he looked up again, "You're not injured are you?"

"No," he said, catching Bilbo's hand. "Just bruises."

Curling his fingers around Thorin's Bilbo kissed the other's fingertips and breathed a sigh of relief, "Good."

"Though I wonder if your neighbors would protest a shower at this hour," Thorin said, nosing into Bilbo's hair.

"I think they would forgive me for it," Bilbo murmured in reply.

"You could join me," Thorin rumbled, pushing the memory of Dwalin's angry face from his mind.

"I may just have to do that," the other responded, tilting up to kiss him again briefly and pulling back. Thorin chased after his mouth without letting him get far.

Bilbo returned the kiss, tilting his head away enough to comment, "Of course that implies us actually getting there."

"Eventually," Thorin agreed, one hand wrapping around Bilbo's hips.

Laughing softly, Bilbo pressed himself closer to the other, "I like this idea of eventually." When Thorin kissed him again, desperation leaked into the touch as he tilted Bilbo's head back and pressed against him. Bilbo gasped slightly at that, his lips parting under Thorin's and his hand moving to tangle in the other man's dark hair.

w-w-w

Faramir paused for a long moment before finally knocking on the door to the apartment building.

There was a long pause and then Dwalin opened the door, looking him over. "Hello," he rumbled.

The teen shifted back slightly, "Hello.  I...I'm here to see Ori?"

Dwalin arched a brow, looking the boy over again before shrugging and standing aside, motioning him in. Stepping inside, Faramir shifted the books in his arms and glanced around, his gaze moving to the stairs.

"He's up on the fourth floor," Dwalin said, taking up his post near the door for where he was waiting for news.

"Thank you," Faramir murmured, heading for the stairs and going up to the third floor, pausing again as he realized he'd forgotten to ask exactly which apartment it was.

Dori stepped out of the apartment, pausing when he saw Faramir, "Can I help you?"

He held up the books slightly, "I'm looking for Ori?"

"Oh, you must be Faramir."  He nodded at the apartment door, "He's here."

Smiling faintly, Faramir inclined his head, "Thank you."

Ori looked up from where he was reading for his class, frowning at the door at the sound of voices.

Faramir slipped past Dori to tap on the door to the apartment.

Hesitating, Ori rose and pushed the door open, sure that the five minute warning Bofur had given him didn't apply to his own door. "Faramir," he said, grin slipping onto his face. "It's good to see you."

Faramir offered him a smile, holding up the books, "Hey, I...I brought some books I thought you might like."

"You truly are amazing," Ori said, stepping back to let him in. "You have no idea."

"I think you're exaggerating," Faramir replied, offering a shy smile.

"You brought books," Ori said. "Which puts you pretty high up."

"Well, it...it seemed the thing to do.  How are you doing?"

Ori hesitated before rolling his shoulders. "Things have been... a bit tense of late, but we're all alive and doing as well as we can be."

"Well, that's all one can ask sometimes.  Are you settling in alright here?" Faramir set the books down on the table, glancing at his friend.

"It's nice," Ori said and smiling wryly. "Actually, it's much nicer than where we used to live."

That earned a faint chuckle, "And your brothers are well?"

"As they could be," Ori agreed. "So, thieving and being particularly scary, but good. Dori’s happier now he's gotten his tea stash back up to snuff."

"I'm glad to hear it," the younger man's eyes moved around the comfortable apartment and he felt himself surprisingly at ease there.

Following the other's gaze, Ori smiled. "I like it here," he said. "I'm just sorry for what we lost along the way, but if you feel like sending more thanks along to Gandalf..."

"I'll pass it along," his friend promised.

"Good," Ori smiled, bracing his chin on one hand.

There was another knock on the door and Faramir startled, half-turning in that direction. Ori tensed, as much in surprise as fear before going and pausing at the door before opening it.

Bofur stood on the other side, offering him a hesitant smile, "Hey, Ori.  I was--" He broke off as he spotted Faramir, "Oh...you have a guest.  I can, I can come back later."

"You met Faramir the other day, remember?" Ori offered. "Was there something you needed?"

Faramir offered him a half wave and Bofur shook his head, "I...no it can keep." His hand closed around the carving in his pocket, looking from Ori back to Faramir, "It's good to see you again."

"You too," the teen offered quietly.

"If you're certain," Ori said and glanced back at Faramir. "I could make tea if either of you wanted."

Faramir shrugged very slightly, "If it's no trouble."

Hesitating, Bofur nodded, "I'm sure.  I shouldn't keep you."

"Then I'll see you later?" Ori said, tilting forward slightly before rocking back.

Bofur offered him a smile, resisting the urge to brush a hand over one of Ori's braids, "Yeah.  I'll see you later." Watching him go, Ori carefully shut the door, hand lingering for a moment before turning to the kitchen to make that tea.

Faramir's eyebrows rose at that, "What was that?"

"What was what?" Ori frowned over at him, putting the kettle on the stove and fiddling with it.

Considering how to answer that, Faramir looked toward his friend, "He seems nice.  Even nicer now that I'm not hiding from my father and all."

"He is," Ori hummed in agreement. "Very nice."

"You seem to like him quite a bit," Faramir offered quietly.

Ori stopped, hand stilling and he took a breath, realized he probably looked ridiculous and glanced over. "I do. As I said, he's nice."

Picking up one of the books he'd brought, Faramir thumbed through it absently, "Have you told him as much?"

"Told him that I like him and find him nice?" Ori frowned over at him.

"Yes."

"Well, not in so many words but I'm pretty certain he knows," Ori said, ducking his head down.

Faramir looked up at him, his brows rising slightly, "How do you figure?"

"I'm pretty sure making him a pot of tea, braiding his hair, and staying up all night reading to him is enough to let him know," Ori said, meaning to sound arch and ending up sounding shocked that all those words had come out of his mouth.

He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before he found a reply to that, "I would say that in normal communications that would count as definite signs.  From what I've seen of human interaction through there's rarely normal communication."

Trying to fight down growing panic, Ori shrugged. "And? What are you trying to say then?"

"I don't know," Faramir answered.  "But if you've really done that much for him I'd hazard you find him a bit more than 'nice'."

"It doesn't matter," Ori said, eying the kettle critically. "If I find anything more or not."

"Why not?"

"Why not?" Ori repeated, incredulous. "How could anything... how could it matter?"

Faramir stared at him, "What do you mean how could it matter?  Why wouldn’t it matter? I'd hazard that's a better question."

"Because--well, because he's a he, and I know that works for some people but," Ori shook his head. "And he's… He's him. And that's just..."

"So he's a him and it's illegal, so what," Faramir replied, hearing his father's voice in his head telling him what a disappointment and shame he was for saying something like that.  "What's him being him got to do with it, isn't that a good thing?"

"Dori would kill him," Ori said, starting to tick off the same things he usually told himself before going to bed. "He's older, and he's given no indication that he might... Well..."

Faramir set down the book he was still holding, drifting around the living room and picking up the book that Ori had bought the day they'd run into each other, "I'm not sure older's all that much of a concern.  You're of legal age now after all.  He can't be all that much older."

"Unlike Kili," Ori said under his breath and shook his head. "Yes, I'm of legal age for all the good that does. But, there's enough other stuff I'm not sure that matters." He frowned in the direction of that book, remembering Bofur handing it to him.

Blinking at the book, where it had all but fallen open for him, Faramir tilted his head slightly, "Have you gone through this book yet?"

"No?" Ori offered. "I mean, not really. Why?"

He withdrew several bills, "Because I'm pretty sure this is the cost of the book slid into its pages."

Ori frowned and approached, glancing down at that. "Huh?"

Faramir handed him the money, "Count it, but I'm pretty sure it's what the book cost.  It was just stuck in here."

"And you're going to posit that he's the one who put it there?" Ori asked, counting automatically.

"He's the one who brought the book out to you when you rushed out to defend me," Faramir murmured.

"You're going to read something into this, aren't you?" Ori sighed, mind already doing the same.

"And you're not?"

"Try not to sound smug about it. Say, have you ever told Eowyn that you like her yet?"

Fararmir's cheeks colored slightly at that, "I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"It means you have no room to talk," Ori said, head ducking down as he looked over the book again.

"I'm not living in the same building as she is though.  Nor am I going to bookstores with her," Faramir protested.

"We weren't supposed to go out alone," Ori protested. "And what's living in the same building got to do with it?"

"Quite a bit possibly," came the answer.  "I would hazard a guess that he likes you, based on the evidence."

Ori's shoulders stiffened. "Would you now?"

"Is that so hard to believe?" Faramir asked gently, watching his friend.

Ori thought about the bookstore, and the chocolate cake that had made him feel heavy and content and shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know." He hesitated again, remembering the touch the night before, when Bofur had ran a hand over his hair and shook his head again.

Lifting a shoulder in a half shrug, Faramir spoke again, "Well, I wouldn't dismiss it out of hand at least."

"I'm not inclined to dismiss anything out of hand," Ori said and looked over in alarm when the tea kettle let out a shriek for being ignored. Rushing to attend to that, he looked back at his friend. "You know, you really should talk to Eowyn."

"And say what?" the youth responded. "I haven't anything to offer her."

"You have yourself," Ori pointed out quietly.

Faramir looked at him for a long moment before shaking his head, "Which really isn't all that much."

"It's as much as I have to offer someone like Bofur," Ori pointed out. "Who else would offer anything to her anyway?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure there's someone," Faramir answered.  "She could do better.  She deserves to do better."

"I think," Ori started and paused. "You're not really the one who gets to say what someone deserves. No one really is."

"So in other words I should get up the courage and actually talk to her is what you're saying?" Faramir asked.

"Yes," Ori nodded. "Frankly, if I do so before you do, it shall be quite tragic."

"I still say he likes you, which frankly means you've got more of a vote in your favor than I think I do."

Ori managed barely not to roll his eyes. "Then you shall simply have to win Eowyn."

"You make it sound so simple," Faramir sighed.

"Isn’t it?" Ori protested quietly.

Faramir nodded, "I haven't the first idea of where to begin, so, yes I would say it isn't."

"You just ask her to dinner," Ori said. "And don't let Boromir cook or anything."

His friend smiled uncertainly, "As long as it doesn't mean I end up cooking for her.  That would pretty well seal my fate."

"That's what buying dinner is for," Ori said, a shade primly.

"Answer for everything," Faramir murmured.  "I'll...I'll give it a try and ask her."

Ori tried not to sigh. "It'll be good for you, you'll see. Just try it." He then realized he was starting to sound exactly like his brother and gave into the urge to sigh.

"I'll try it," Faramir promised.  "And if she says yes I get to eal with her over protective brother as well.  I'm beginning to wonder if I'm not better just remaining single the rest of my life."

Ori slowly tilted his brow up. "I'm sure he can't be worse than Dori. Or your's for that matter."

"Probably not worse than Dori, but it's him and Boromir I would then be dealing with.  In different capacities."

Ori paused to consider whether Bombur or Bifur counted as an over protective sort and decided neither counted. "It can't be that bad."

"Well, I guess I'll be finding out," Faramir replied.  "Won't know until I'm in the middle of it after all."

"Life is not so scary as you seem to think it," Ori said and realized he wasn't even sure he believed that when he said it.

That earned a skeptical look, but Faramir rolled his shoulders, "If you say so."

"Well, I'm trying to say so at any rate," Ori admitted.

"Who knows, maybe you're right.  I'll give it a try with Eowyn.  The worst that happens is she says no, right?"

"See? You're already taking a better attitude," Ori said brightly.

A few hours later there was a knock on the door, Faramir startling and looking in that direction from where he was perched on the couch, talking with Ori about literature.

Ori's head moved to the door and he hesitated, waiting until the knock came again, sounding more annoyed before rising and slipping to the door, opening it to peek around. "Yes?" he asked and blinked at the brown haired, broad shouldered man on the other side.

Faramir rose, blinking, "Boromir?  What are you doing here?"

"I came looking for you," he replied, tone mild which belayed the expression in his eyes. "You've been gone a long time."

"It's only been," he glanced at the clock. "Oh, almost four hours.  I didn't realize how late it was."

"I'd hoped that's what had happened," Boromir managed, tone still mild and Ori considered him quietly.

Faramir looked sheepish, "I'm sorry I worried you."

Taking off his hat to smooth back his hair, Boromir shrugged. "I'm less worried now," he said, eyes tracking up and down Ori before looking at his brother.

"Oh, Boromir, this is Ori.  Ori, my older brother Boromir."

"Good to meet you," Ori said, tugging his sweater and smiling brightly, Boromir tilting his head slightly.

"And you," he said with a nod.

"I've heard a lot about you after all," Ori said, a shade too brightly and Boromir looked concerned for a moment.

Faramir bit back a smile at that expression, "Good things, I promise."  He paused, "Ori's a good friend, he graduated last year so I haven't seen him much."

Boromir paused before nodding in remembrance. "Of course," he said. "I do recall now. And you are... in college?"

"Yeah," Ori said. "You must have a good memory," and Boromir lifted his shoulders.

Faramir hesitated, "We...should probably head home.  It was really good to see you, Ori.  We should do it again soon."

"Do feel free to come by when you can," Ori said, leaning against the door frame. "And don't be too frightened by Dwalin."

"Would he be the one with the tattoos and the glower at the door?" Boromir asked, looking sideways down the stairs.

Faramir glanced at Ori for confirmation as he nodded, "I think that's him.  He's...rather intimidating."

"Well that's only because--" Ori started. "No, that's because he is. But so long as he knows you, you'll be fine."

That earned a smile, "Alright, I'll keep that in mind, and I'll see about coming by again.  Who knows, maybe we'll run into each other out and about again too."  He paused when he realized what he'd said.

"That would be nice," Ori said quickly and Boromir looked over.

"When did that happen?"

"Um," Faramir considered how to answer that, "the week after Gandalf destroyed his books.  It was kind of sheer chance that I ducked into that store in the first place."

That got a laugh out of Boromir and he shook his head slightly. "Well, then it's good that chance took such an interest in you."

Faramir offered a smile that looked perhaps a little too relieved at that response, "It really was. Couldn't have asked for better timing."

"It was too bad about your father though," Ori said, mind distracted, thinking about Bofur buying the book still and Boromir froze.

Faramir stilled at that, glancing at his brother, "It's not as bad as all that.  I'm fine, really."

"Really?" Boromir repeated quietly and Ori looked between them, wincing.

"It wasn't that bad," he tried to agree with Faramir. "I mean, he blustered a bit and backed off."

Boromir turned his head to look at the other, frowning slightly.

"I'm fine," Faramir murmured.  "Ori stepped in before it got too bad."

"He stepped in?" Boromir confirmed, still watching him closely.

"Yes.  Forgot the book he was buying and everything.  Gave me an excuse to leave," Faramir assured.

“Oh," Boromir said, unsure whether to thank the short man in a knit sweater in front of him or be ashamed that he had witnessed his father first hand. "Thank you for that."

"It's not--" Ori started and switched tactics. "It was the least I could do."

"It was still more than most," Faramir murmured.  "We...we should probably get going, though."

"Of course," Ori said. "It was good to see you, and I'm glad you didn't get lost, as we all seem to be lately."

"Lost?" Boromir asked.

"It's a new building," Faramir explained before looking back to Ori.  "I had the address which helped and it's not too far from routes I know pretty well myself."

"I'm sorry you and your family had to move," Boromir tried to offer.

"Oh, it was, well, the whole building," Ori said and Boromir blinked once.

"Was it demolished?" he asked, confused.

"Burned," Faramir answered quietly.  He glanced at Ori again, "It was good to see you.  We should get together again soon."

"We should," Ori agreed as Boromir repeated the word burned under his breath and shook his head slightly, looking down the stairs.

"Though I'm not looking forward to walking past that Dwalin again."

"We're on our way out, so I would guess it would be easier," the younger brother murmured.  Offering Ori a smile, he touched his brow, "I'll see you around."

"Dwalin won't bite," Ori assured and waved them off.

Faramir nodded at that and started for the stairs, leading the way down and out of the building.  Once they were clear of the threshold he glanced at his older brother, "So, what did you think of him?"

"I barely spoke to him," Boromir protested. "He seems bookish, much like you."

"He is.  He's a good friend.  He's also insistent that I should ask Eowyn to dinner," Faramir muttered, kicking at a pebble on the sidewalk.

"Than I like him even more," Boromir said, not rolling his eyes through careful practice whenever Eowyn was mentioned.

"You would," came the fondly exasperated reply.

"Of course I would," Boromir said, adjusting his cap again. "Though, since I've been telling you the same thing for weeks, I'll be offended if you finally listen to him."

"Sometimes it takes hearing it from a different source.  And one who lives in a state of not knowing what the next day brings," Faramir answered with a shrug.  "Though I still say it's pointless to ask her."

"What do you mean, not knowing what the next day brings?" Boromir asked with a frown, leaving aside his brother's last comment for hte moment.

"Um, well, like I said, their last building burned."  He hesitated, "It was arson. And surely you saw the braids?"

"Yes, brother, I had noticed he was Ereborian, but usually it takes more than that," he said, and shook his head, deciding that perhaps he did not want to know.

"Either way, he's a good friend and really is a great person to talk books with," Faramir offered as they reached their apartment, hoping that his brother had forgotten the mention of their father.

"And apparently a guard against our father," Boromir said, hanging his coat by the door and looking sideways at his younger brother.

Faramir offered him what he hoped was an innocent smile, but it came out a bit too shaky for that, "Something like that.  Really, brother, it wasn't that bad."

"You may wish that, but you do not look it," Boromir murmured and shook his head again. "What do you want for dinner?"

"It was more of the same as usual.  I'm fine," he insisted as he hung up his coat and hat finally.  "And I really don't care tonight.  Whatever you feel like cooking."

Boromir hummed, already working on what he knew to be Faramir's favorite casserole. Recognizing the preparations, Faramir offered a faint smile and shook his head, "I really am fine, Boromir.  It's been more than a week."

Boromir just hummed again, considering that sometimes it took him more than a week to calm after a dinner with his father. Where he smiled and nodded in the right places, playing the dutiful son as his father concocted whatever fancies suited him for why his eldest son had fought and won a law battle to move out with his brother. Denethor made many excuses for Boromir's behavior, none of which acknowledged that Boromir’s love for his brother had won out over affection and loyalty to his father. "If you say so, Faramir."

Faramir turned one of the dining room chairs around, resting his crossed arms on the back of it and his chin on his arms as he watched his brother.  Some part of him had been mulling over things his father had said, both in the last encounter and in the past, since the last encounter, "Boromir?"

"Hm?" he hummed to show he was listening though not moving from the stove.

"Why did you choose this?" He knew they'd had this conversation before over the last year, but there were times he needed a reminder because he couldn’t' seem to get it to stick.

"I happen to like the view from this apartment," Boromir replied lightly before turning and looking at his brother, leaning his hips against the counter. "Because you're my brother and the most important thing is that you're safe and happy."

Drawing his gaze up to meet Boromir's eyes, Faramir considered that, "But are you? Happy I mean."

"With you and with here? Yes," Boromir replied promptly enough.

"It's not much," Faramir murmured.  It was a small apartment and really wasn't much compared to their father's house.

"It's enough," Boromir shrugged, turning back to the shove. His younger brother paused at that, but finally nodded and rose to fetch Gandalf's books as much to do the work as to remind himself that he was useful in some respect.

w-w-w

Watching the brothers leave, Ori leaned against the doorframe for a long moment, fingering the money Faramir had handed him earlier. With a shake of his head he moved downstairs, knocking on Bofur's door.

Bofur startled at the knock, pocketing the carving he'd been turning over in his hands before rising and answering the door.  He blinked at Ori for a long moment, "Hey, is everything alright?"

"Yes," he said, shifting. "You'd just... well, seemed like you wanted to talk to me earlier."

"Oh, I..." He paused and stepped aside, "I sort of did.  You want to come in?"

"If you don't mind," Ori said, slipping inside.

Bofur closed the door, pausing there for a long moment before turning to face Ori, "I, really it wasn't much.  I mostly just, well," he pulled out the carving he'd been working on with every free moment he had since they had moved.  "I wanted to give you this."

Fighting down the panic he felt to be confronted with a carving after Bifur's, Ori reached out slowly to take the offered piece, turning it over in his hands slowly. "Thank you," he replied automatically.

"Like I said, it's not much," Bofur said, trying for a hesitant smile.

Ori gave him a disbeliefing look. "Of course not," he said, touching a hand to the knights tiny javelin, shield hung over his horse's saddle. "Just as paying for the book yourself is something you're probably going to tell me was nothing."

"What?"  Bofur looked taken aback at that.  He hadn't really expected Ori to notice that, at least not for a while yet.

"Faramir pointed out there was still the money in the book," Ori said, having not noticed it at all.

"Oh, that, I..." He tugged at one of his braids, "You had other things on your mind at that point."

"I could have paid you back," Ori said, still running his hands over the carving, marveling at it.

"If I'd wanted to be paid back I wouldn’t have paid for it in the first place," Bofur reminded.  "You had laid down enough for it, after all."

"Then why..." Ori frowned, looking up at him finally and holding the carving up to his chest, almost defensively.

"As a thank you?" Bofur offered.

"For what?" Ori frowned and then he paused. "The blanket?"

"Yes, well, and staying up with me that night.  Checking on me when Bombur was shot, offering me tea," Bofur ran a hand over the back of his neck.

"I didn't," Ori started. "I did those things because I wanted to, you don't have to..."

"And I paid for the book because I wanted to."

"Bofur," Ori said finally. "What do you think of me?"

Bofur briefly considered the ways he could answer that before trying for an honest one, "I like you.  Quite a lot."

Wanting to ask why, Ori dropped his eyes again, shifting. "Well I--I'm glad of that at least then."

Whatever response he'd been expecting or hoping for that hadn't been it and Bofur frowned slightly, "Why do you ask?"

"You confuse me," Ori said quietly. "Because, because I don't really understand what you want."

"You don't," Bofur meant it to be a question, it came out a shade more defeated than that though as his gaze moved to the carving in Ori's hands.

"I think the entire apartment building does though," Ori murmured, eyes moving from side to side but not rising.

"Whether they do or not doesn't really matter," Bofur murmured, deflating and perching on the coffee table.

"Then," Ori started. "Why can't you just tell me?"

"What do you want me to say?" Bofur asked quietly.  "I like you.  I want you."

Ori's shoulders stiffened and he brought wide eyes back up to Bofur's face. "There's so many meanings of the word like," Ori murmured. "But not nearly so many of _want_."

Seeing the way Ori tensed, Bofur looked away, "I don't know another word for it.  If...if you would like me to back off, I will.  I won't stop you going."

"Why would I be going?" Ori asked.

That garnered a surprised blink before the other met his gaze, "Why would you stay?"

"I've stayed before," Ori pointed out, taking a step forward and setting the carving down carefully on the table besides Bofur. "In your bed, even."

Bofur watched him almost warily, "Why?"

"Because--" Ori frowned and flushed, eyes sliding away and he bit his bottom lip, hovering in front of Bofur. "Because what if I wanted to be there? What if I wanted you too?"

Eyes widening at that, Bofur paused for the briefest of moments before leaning up and pressing a kiss to Ori's lips. The angle was awkward and he was counting the seconds until he got pushed away.

Ori's hands fluttered for a moment and he was fairly sure that he jammed his nose into Bofur's cheek which was not particularly romantic. Finally, he figured out that he could put his hands on Bofur's sides and shift forward slightly.

Bofur startled, almost pulling back when Ori returned the kiss, but he leaned up, his hands finally coming to rest on the younger man's waist.  It took a moment but he finally sorted out an angle that didn't strain either of their necks and also didn't end with their noses running into each other.

Letting go of a soft breath, Ori shifted closer, stepping in between Bofur's legs and leaning against him. Brown eyes snapping wide at that, Bofur pulled back from the kiss to search Ori's face for a moment before he leaned in to kiss him again.  One arm slipped around Ori's back leaving enough slack so the other could draw away.

"Why do you keep acting like I'm going to run?" Ori asked, mouth moving to press against his cheek as he spoke.

"Because I still don't understand why you're not," Bofur replied quietly, even as his arm tightened slightly.

Ori let out a breathless laugh. "Why on earth would I be?"

Blinking at him for a long moment as his mind supplied several possible answers to that, Bofur shook his head, "I don't know."

"Yes you do," Ori said, tugging on one of Bofur's braids. "At least, you've constructed reasons and thoughts up in your head."

"Well, there's not much I can offer you," Bofur replied, not quite drawing away from the pull on his braid.

Twining his fingers around the braid, Ori surprised his sigh. "What would I need you to offer me? Is there anyone else out there who could offer me more that I would want?"

"What if you find that there is?" came the soft question.

"Like what?" Ori repeated. "Like _who_?"

"I don't _know_.  Someone who could keep up with you when you talk about those books you love so much, or-or something."

Ori just blinked at him, head going back on his neck without moving away. "I have people plenty willing to listen to be babble about books. Besides, if you were willing, I'm sure I could find some you'd enjoy well enough, that's not the point. I've never looked at Faramir and wanted him like when I see you."

"And I still don't get why you want me, but I think--I think I'm alright with that.  Or at least heading there," Bofur answered with a faint smile.

"Heading there?" Ori repeated incredulously and kissed him again to make sure he was getting there a bit faster, hands fisting the front of Bofur's shirt and pulling him forward.

Bofur made a soft sound in the back of his throat, his arm tightening around Ori's waist to draw him closer as he shifted into the kiss.

"What else have you got locked away in your head?" Ori murmured, hands rising to run over both of Bofur's braids and down his arms. "I'd like to dismiss as many as I might."

"Your brothers are going to kill me," Bofur offered, though not really as a protest.

"I can't argue there," Ori agreed after a moment. "Though Nori likes you enough he should only vaguely threaten barring any harm."

"Though I told him there was nothing going on with us," came the reply.

Ori rolled his shoulders. "You'll have trouble with Dori. What else?"

Bofur paused, "I'm a rogue and a coward whose only real redeeming feature is a better sense of direction than most and that's only due to knowing all the escape routes."

Eyes widening, Ori considered him a long moment before leaning in to place another careful kiss to his mouth, lingering there. Hesitating for a moment, and keeping the kiss gentle, Bofur pressed carefully into the kiss, one hand moving to rest on Ori's cheek.

"No," Ori said when he drew back. "I mean, I can't deny you might be a rouge but Dori just dresses the fact he is one better and Nori doesn't even try. You may be a coward, I wouldn't know, but I'm fairly certain I would be too," he said, though he'd never put himself to the test of being brave or running away. "But that's not all you are. You watch, and you understand people and you're kind--and isn't that what matters?"

Staring at him for a minute, Bofur traced his thumb along Ori's cheekbone, "You...you're amazing, you know that?"

"I'm not," Ori murmured. "But I might be willing to let you think I am."

"You see all that and can say it and you're kind and gentle and caring," Bofur spoke quietly before leaning in to kiss Ori gently again.

Hands settling on Bofur's shoulders, Ori seemed to hesitate a moment before pressing their mouths more firmly together, opening his own slightly. Bofur's lips parted under Ori's and he traced the tip of his tongue over Ori's open lips, pulling the other closer again. Making a quiet sound, Ori's hands twisted in the fabric covering Bofur's back, tilting forward.

Pressing up into the kiss, Bofur's breath caught and he considered whether or not to move them to the couch rather than have Ori leaning over him where he was still seated on the coffee table.  He finally drew back from the kiss, gently pushing Ori back enough so he could stand and shift to the couch, "Your brother's likely to wonder where you are."

"They're out," Ori said, watching him move and hesitating. "Or they certainly were. I've not been gone that long at any rate."

Bofur paused at that, his gaze never leaving Ori, "Any idea when they'll be back?"

He shook his head slightly. "Later." Bofur nodded briefly, reaching out to touch Ori's cheek, but stayed silent. “Why?" he asked, voice dropping lower and he shifted closer.

"I'd rather not deal with Dori trying to kill me quite yet," Bofur answered with a hint of a smile.

"I'm sure you'll survive his attempts," Ori said, tilting his head.

"I'd still like it if the first attempt wasn't today."

"So what are you suggesting?" Ori asked, hand coming to tangle on the bottom of his sweater, still watching Bofur.

"I'm not sure yet.  But not having him come looking for you while I'm in the middle of kissing you is probably a good start."

Frowning slightly, Ori drew back but didn't move away. "Oh. I could always--go then."

Bofur's eyes widened slightly and he started backpedaling, "Ori, no, that's not what I meant.  I don't want you to go. "

Ori wavered, inching closer again. "A-alright. I just... this is all new to me," he said, voice quiet. "I don't know what I'm doing or what I should be."

"This isn't something I'm all that familiar with either," Bofur responded softly, watching Ori carefully.  "But you shouldn't do anything you're not comfortable with."

"I'm comfortable here," Ori said. "And--when you were kissing me."

"May I kiss you again, in that case?" the question was cautious.

"You think you have to ask?" Ori asked, trying to sound light.

Bofur looked at him for a long moment before rising again and leaning down to kiss him gently, "Maybe."

"Don't," Ori said, tilting his head back. "Until the word comes otherwise, assume you have a written charter to kiss me as many times as you like."

That earned a bit of a grin, "I'll keep it in mind."  Resting his hand lightly on Ori's cheek, Bofur pressed their lips together again. Ori let out a breathless sound, one hand coming up to slide around the back of Bofur's head, the other resting on top of his arm.

Bofur's other arm slipped around Ori's waist, pulling him closer as he leaned further into the kiss. "I really, really like you," Ori managed, tilting his head back more.

Leaning his head down further to kiss Ori's throat, Bofur smiled, "I'm glad, because I really like you too."

Ori startled at that touch, not having expected it and shifting his head slightly as if to ask for it again. That garnered a quiet chuckle, Bofur's breath ghosting over the place he'd kissed before he repeated the action.

"That's," Ori swallowed, both hands on Bofur's shoulder.

"Hm?" Bofur glanced at him from the corner of his eye but didn't draw away from where he was trailing light kisses up Ori's throat to his jaw line. Ori made a garbled sound and shifted closer, letting his head drop back as far as he could.

Bofur drew back enough to actually kiss Ori briefly again, his calloused fingers smoothing over where he had kissed the other's neck. Ori shifted, using his hands on Bofur's shoulders to stand on his toes, pressing the full line of their bodies together.

Bofur pressed further into the kiss at that, a low sound humming in the back of his throat.

"Good god," Ori managed, drawing back to see if he could catch his breath.

Bofur drew a steadying breath that wasn't half so deep as he intended.  The smile he offered Ori was shaky. "You must--" Ori started. "Have some better idea of what you're doing than I do."

"Maybe somewhat," Bofur answered, his fingers moving to gently brush over Ori's left braid.

"You could have killed me the other night," Ori said, pushing into the touch. "Touching my hair like that in front of the others."

"I was tired and not thinking as clearly as I maybe should have been," Bofur admitted.

"It shocked me and probably anyone else who was watching," Ori murmured. "And I was still standing there just wishing you'd do it again."

"Bifur was there, so probably not everyone who was watching," he offered with a faint smile.

"He--that carving he did," Ori said, suspicion of the other's goal finally dawning in his mind.

"Was at least directed at me.  Maybe at both of us.  You should have seen his face when I returned it to him, though."

"Was it terribly annoyed?" Ori asked, nuzzling his nose into Bofur's throat.

"Grinning and obvious fishing," Bofur corrected, tilting his head back to expose his neck further.

"What he'd carved," Ori said after a moment, having looked at it long enough to remember how the tiny wooden figures were posed. "Is that... is that something that can be done?"

Bofur felt his cheeks color very slightly, but he nodded, "It can be, yes."

Ori swallowed and shifted again. "Would you like to try it sometime?" he managed, somewhat scandalized at himself for getting the words out.

Bofur's eyes widened and he managed somehow to offer an affirmative, albeit strangled, response.

"Oh good," he managed, fingers tightening against Bofur's sides. "Because I haven't really been able to stop thinking about it."

Bofur swallowed hard at that, but leaned down to press an almost desperate kiss to Ori's lips.

Just as Ori returned it the door slammed open, Nori munching his way through an apple even as he started talking. "Oi, Bofur, Dwalin said he--" Nori trailed off into a startled yelp and froze.

Bofur startled back, nearly tripping over his coffee table as he did so, "Nori!  What happened to the sometimes knocking you do?"

"Decided to try something new today," Nori deadpanned back. "There's usually no reason to knock after all and what happened to nothing going on again?"

Ori stood still where he had been, looking between Bofur and his brother and then at his feet, blushing.

"Well, that is..."  Bofur chanced a glance at Ori before turning back to his friend, "There wasn't anything then."

"Except in your head is what I'm assuming you want to be saying there," Nori said, rubbing the space between his eyes and shaking his head again.

"Doesn't mean I wasn't telling you the truth.  I didn't expect anything to come of it," the brown-haired man offered, tugging absently at his right braid.

"Uh-huh," Nori said slowly and Ori glanced between them again, wondering if he should slink off to the side and pretend not to be there. "Right, I'm serious that Dwalin wants us pretty much on the double but, seriously? You realize Dori is going to kill us _all_."

"That had occurred to me, yes," Bofur agreed, pausing.  "What does Dwalin need us for, did he say?"

"Gang work of the illegal sort, I'd say," Nori said. "Which, by the way, is the only reason I'm not freaking out about the fact you're both men. Just so we're entirely clear here."

Bofur nodded slightly at that as well, "Did he give indication of how armed he wanted us?"

"Considering life, very," Nori said, looking over at Ori again who wasn't meeting his eyes. "Though you might want to say, only prepare your own food too and make sure none of it has been near Dori ever."

"I'll be down in a couple of minutes, I need to locate my back-ups," Bofur said, gaze flickering to Ori again and then back to Nori.

"Yeah, right," Nori said and looked at Ori. "Dori's looking for you too," he said and decided that though Ori would probably be angry enough at him, he wouldn't mention how red his mouth looked or the disarray he was generally in.

Bofur swept up his hat from where he'd dropped it with his coat the night before, using it to cover most of the disarray his braids were in.  He ducked into the bedroom, locating where he kept his extra guns and strapping them on before coming back out and pulling on a suit jacket.

"And you'll be careful," Ori said, twisting his sweater up in his hands.

Bofur nodded, reaching over to rest a hand on Ori's cheek for a brief moment, "Aye, we'll be careful."

"Good," Ori said, a hint of Dori entering his prim voice. "I except you both back perfectly fine."

That earned a faint quirk of Bofur's lips as he pulled on his overcoat.  He ignored Nori's presence long enough to offer Ori a brief kiss, "As fine as possible."

"Good," Ori managed, eyed darting over to Nori who shrugged back at him.

Bofur stepped back from Ori, offering him a flickering smile and starting for the door.

Ori watched them both go before gathering back up the carving and pushing open the door to his own apartment, forgetting to look in a mirror and that Nori has just told him Dori was looking for him. Dori looked up as Ori came in, "There you--" He broke off, his eyebrows going up at the sight of his youngest brother who looked like he'd been well and thoroughly kissed.

Ori blinked. "What?" he started and glanced toward the mirror that Dori had hung by the door, eyes widening in alarm.

"Where've you been?" Dori frowned very slightly, starting to make tea out of habit to calm himself down.

"With--that is--" he tried to hide the carving behind his back. "You're not allowed to kill him."

Dori pinched the bridge of his nose and drew a deep breath, "I promise not to kill him.  Do you have any idea what you're getting into?"

"No, and I'd like to see that promise written in triplicate," Ori rattled off.

That earned him a long look, "If that's what it takes.  It's rendered invalid if he hurts you."

Ori paused, considering that quite seriously. "There is no way I could possibly change your mind on that so I accept your conditions."

Dori managed a faint smile at that, "Agreed.  I'll sign those promises in triplicate for you tonight.  Tea?"

"Yes please," Ori said, hunching his shoulders slightly and looking down.

Dori poured two cups of tea, offering one to his youngest brother, "I will be talking to him, you know that, right?"

"I figured no less," Ori admitted. "Just, don't try to kill him. Especially not today."

"I promise I won't try to kill him," Dori assured again.

"And I will be holding you to that," Ori pressed, setting the carving down on the table and staring at it, considering pulling it back once it was there.

Dori's gaze moved to the carving and he blinked, "That's quite intricate."

"Bofur made it," Ori said and took a breath. "For he knew I liked the stories."

Reaching for it, Dori paused before he actually touched it, "May I?"

Hesitating half a second Ori nodded. "Certainly, if you like."

He picked it up, considering the detail on the knight and horse, "It's lovely.  And very thoughtful."

"You do realize I gave him that blanket, don't you?" Ori asked after a moment.

"Nori made some mention of that probability.  The colors were rather evident of who it was for, too," Dori murmured, still not sure he was willing to actually support this.

"I know you don't approve," Ori said and stopped, unsure what declaration he could follow that up on. "And I think I know why you might dislike him but this means... I won't not do this because you disprove but you can say any piece you might like to say."

"I don't trust him with you.  That’s, honestly, that's the most I can articulate at this point," Dori replied, setting the carving down.

“I'm still curious who you might possibly be willing to trust me with," Ori shook his head slightly, a finger tracing over the carving.

"Possibly no one.  But it's not my place to say.  Just, be careful, Ori."

"You taught me well enough to be that," Ori told him. "Will you trust me with me at the very least?"

Dori paused at that, but finally nodded, "I'll do my best."

"Thank you," Ori said, meaning it entirely. Dori nodded very slightly, taking a drink of his tea as he settled down at the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra long chapter tonight.
> 
> I used my only scheduled study break to prepare this so I hope everyone enjoys (And is more willing to forgive typos than usual because VS' copy editing skills are currently off). 
> 
> VS should not have a chance to update this story again until the 19th, when most of the work for the quarter is due, and incidentally, the day the Hobbit comes out on DVD in the United States. So with luck (all fingers crossed) there should be a chapter to celebrate those events. Cheers all, and hope you enjoyed the update! (No cliff hanger this time).


	14. And Every Time You Protest

Thranduil rolled off the couch in one long graceful movement when a knock came at the door. He'd been dozing, still off work since Saturday though he would have a shift the next day. He peeked out the window before opening the door. "Elrond. I can't imagine to what I owe this pleasure."

"I had a couple of questions,"  Elrond paused, looking Thranduil over.  "Starting with 'are you alright?'"

"Fine," he said, leaning against the doorframe before shaking his head slightly and stepping back. "Come on in then, have a cup of tea."

Elrond stepped inside, not looking like he believed that answer for a moment, "Thank you."

"It was a long weekend," Thranduil said. "But things are... settled it seems. Legolas is upstairs though I doubt you'll convince him to show his face today."

"May I ask what happened?"  He hazarded the question.

"Is that Erebor boy still in your class?" Thranduil asked, moving to the kitchen to put the kettle on, considering his tea pot skeptically. "Because it starts there."

"He actually managed to make it to class today," Elrond responded, following him.  "Which I consider a miracle considering the state he was in."

"He and his brother killed Bolg Friday night," Thranduil said, tone mild enough. "It was self defense I'm sure but the fact remains. Gang business at any rate. Azog wanted revenge and he started by taking Legolas."

Elrond paled at that, leaning against the door frame, "God in heaven, is Legolas alright?"

"As he could be," Thranduil managed. "He's almost completely physically unharmed though Azog had him for over an hour. But he had a gun to his head and has seen more death than I believe he ever has before."

"How are you holding up?" his cousin asked softly.

"This is my job," he murmured, refusing to look over and the line of his shoulders tight. "Though I'd rather my son never be involved again."

"That's not quite what I asked, Cousin."

"If I couldn't handle this, cousin, I would need another job," Thranduil shook his head. "I'll be right as rain soon enough."

Elrond looked skeptical, but nodded very slightly, "Alright.  If you or Legolas need anything, don't hesitate to let me know."  He paused, "You said that Fili and his brother killed Azog's nephew in self-defense?  You're certain?"

"Fairly," Thranduil said. "The youngest boy was wearing a new braid and though I don't know what those braids remotely mean, it was an interesting timing to mark a new life event. Besides, the cuts on Fili and Bolg's body were the same, and it was barely a street over from their home and Azog went out for revenge. We won't press charges, not after what happened but they must have."

"After what happened?"  one of Elrond's dark eyebrows rose at that.

"After Azog threatened my son, Thorin killed him," Thranduil said, the line of his shoulders tightening even further.

That garnered a slight frown, "And those charges aren't going to be pressed either, I'm assuming?"

"No," Thranduil shook his head. "It's been labeled gang business and pushed under a rug."

"I'm not certain I can say I'm too upset about that," Elrond replied cautiously.  "Considering who isn't going to be on the streets due to it."

"Certainly," Thranduil said, shaking his head and pulling the kettle off the stove. "And I owe Thorin more than I would like to admit now, for saving my son. And mayhaps that means I shall have to be more sympathetic, but he and his entire lot are still gangsters."

Tilting his head on one side, Elrond considered that, "Gangsters they may be, but they're not actively pulling innocents in, are they?"

"Actively? No, but they almost got my son killed and who knows who else might have been harmed when their building went up in flames. But more than that," he paused, putting the lid back on the tea pot. "You haven't ever seen them fight, have you?"

Elrond shook his head slightly, "No I can't say that I have."

"I don't think you understand then," Thranduil said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm almost glad they've fallen upon such hideously hard times because I cannot imagine the city under their thrall. Thorin didn't just shot Azog or stab him and walk away, he smashed his head in with a blunt object. And then slit his throat to make sure he was dead."

His cousin paled at that, "God in heaven."

"Which may also explain why Legolas has locked himself in his room after seeing that," Thranduil said, finally handing Elrond a cup of tea.

Taking the cup and sipping at it, Elrond drew a steadying breath and nodded, "That.... that would certainly contribute to that."

"Even Fili's wounds should give you an indication of how they fight," Thranduil shook his head. "I know the man fought in the war but..."

"But that was then and there, not here and now," Elrond murmured.

"And that brutality has no place here," Thranduil said. "No matter what happened in the trenches."

Elrond nodded very slightly, "And yet it finds its way to our streets.  And the cycle continues," his mind flickered to Fili's state that morning.

"And so it continues," Thranduil agreed. "And people are hurt in the crossfire."

"It won't stop, will it?" a quiet voice came from behind Elrond, startling the dark-haired man.  Legolas stood there, having finally ventured down from his room to find food.  He had almost turned around when he'd heard someone other than his father in the house.  It was obvious by the dark circles under his eyes that he had barely slept if at all since Saturday and his blond hair was tangled rather than neatly pulled back away from his face.

"No," Thranduil said, shaking his head slightly.

Wrapping his arms around himself, Legolas fixed his blue eyes on his father, "How many more people are going to get hurt?"

"Probably lots," Thranduil said. "There's plenty of gangs and plenty of people with guns and a will to use them. All we can do is stop it as much as we can. That is my job."

Legolas wet his lips before nodding very slightly, "Be careful?"

"I try to be," Thranduil assured, wanting to reach out and pull Legolas against his side but not daring it. "And after this I shall be trying even harder." Legolas nodded again, slipping past Elrond carefully to avoid brushing against him and going through the pantry to find something that he could take back upstairs.

w-w-w

Legolas made it to school on Tuesday, having determined that he would be more comfortable there than in an empty house while his father was on shift.  He looked mostly alright, though his blue eyes darted toward any sudden noises and the circles under his eyes had grown darker than they had been the day before.  As soon as he stepped through the main doors, he regretted his decision and nearly turned around to leave again.

"Legolas," Aragorn greeted, looking over like a homing pigeon when the blond entered. He stopped in front of him, frowning when he got a good look. "This week has not treated you well, has it?"

Legolas startled very slightly, but rolled his shoulders in a faint shrug, "I've had better.  Just haven't slept well."

"If you say so," Aragorn said, not believing him in the least. "You sure you're well enough to be here?"

"It's better than being home alone," the blond answered before realizing that a simple "yes" probably would have been better.

Aragorn carefully raised a brow and didn't press that issue. "Will you need notes form yesterday then?"

Legolas swallowed slightly at that, but nodded, "Yes, I'll be needing those."

"Well," Aragorn considered his own sorry handwriting. Looking down the hallway, he saw Boromir and Faramir approach. "Oi, Boromir," he called and the other teen tensed slightly before changing course and approaching.

Legolas looked in that direction and took a half step backward before stilling again.  Faramir had glanced toward Aragorn and shook his head when his brother turned that way.

"You take far better notes than I do," Aragorn said. "Rather, your hand writing is readable. Do you think it would be possible for Legolas to borrow them?"

Glancing between them, Legolas shook his head, "It...it's alright, I'm sure I didn't actually miss much."

"No, that is, if you would like them," Boromir offered, considering Aragorn sideways, who, for having called him over to begin with was now studiously ignoring him.

Legolas hesitated, "If...if it wouldn't put you out, I could certainly stand to look them over."

"It's nothing to put me out," Boromir shrugged and Aragorn finally looked back over.

"And you're certain you're alright?"

Blinking once, Legolas nodded, steeling his voice with more confidence than he actually felt, "I'm perfectly alright, Aragorn."

"And if Gimli stood here, would you be saying exactly the same thing?" Aragorn asked in a quieter voice even as Boromir dug around in his bag for the notes.

Expression hardening at that, Legolas nodded, "I would.  Why would that change anything I said?"

"I couldn't imagine," Aragorn remarked dryly.

His jaw tensing at that, Legolas looked away as the main door opened again to let the subject of their conversation enter.  The blond tensed but couldn't leave as he still didn't have the notes.  Gimli's eyes landed on him and he moved over quickly, "Legolas.  You look a fright."

"Not much interested in your opinion," Legolas replied, his tone steady.

"He's not wrong though," Boromir said, handing over the notebook finally. "This wouldn't have anything to do with the news stories that have been circulating about your father and the Ereborians would it?"

His hands shaking very slightly as he took the notebook, Legolas paled even as he shook his head, "No.  Of course not."

Gimli frowned at that, "I was going to ask if you were alright, but you'll just lie to me won't you?"

"I've no reason not to be perfectly fine,” Legolas snapped and ignored the almost hurt expression that passed over Gimli’s face.

Boromir glanced toward Gimli. "Do you have any idea what happened this weekend? The media is full of something or another but none of it seems trustworthy."

Gimli paused, but nodded and earned a dark look from Legolas for that action, "Aye, I have some idea of what happened.  Though not the details."

Boromir hummed and shrugged. "I suppose news stories aren't really our business anyway. Enjoy the notes then."

Legolas offered a wan smile at that, "Thank you.  I'll have them back to you as soon as I can."

"No worries," Boromir shrugged, looking over the hallway to see if his brother had gotten the guts up to speak to Eowyn or not yet.

The second option was the correct one, Faramir still hanging back rather than approach the young woman in question.  Gimli put a hand on Legolas' arm and started to ask again if he was alright, only to have the taller teen shy away from him with a hissed "Don't."

Boromir frowned back over at them, Aragorn just arching a brow and both decided not to say anything to that.

Gimli scowled, but crossed his arms, not pressing again.  Legolas glanced between the three of them, "I'll have the notes back to you by the end of the day, Boromir."  With those words he slipped away quickly.

Boromir watched him go. "I know he's the quiet sort, but usually he's much friendlier than that. Or at least less obviously bothered."

"Leave him be," Aragorn said, response automatic and Boromir gave him a half-disgusted look that Aragorn would think he had to tell him such.

Gimli kept his eyes focused on where Legolas had disappeared, "He's not doing a very good job lying to us, though.  That's worrisome."  He hadn't really expected Legolas to be honest about how he was, but he didn't expect such blatant lies either for some reason.

"So you think something bad did happen to him? Or is he just lying about a bad day?" Boromir asked and carefully didn't snarl when Aragorn gave him a side long look.

"I didn't say either of those things," Gimli hedged, but poorly.  He was more direct by nature.

"Of course you didn't," Boromir replied dryly.

"I also said I didn't know details, not that I didn't know what happened this weekend," Gimli reminded before falling silent again.

"So what did happen?" Boromir asked.

Gimli paused, trying to figure out what he could actually say, and figuring anything he said would be some sort of betrayal, "He came very close to getting killed this weekend."

Boromir only managed not to ask if that wasn't a common occurrence, as Thranduil seemed a saner sort than Denethor ever had, and it had been one of Denethor's somewhat accidental attempts on Faramir's life that finally convinced him to get them both out of the house, however he might have loved his father. "Ah," was all he managed instead.

Glancing at Boromir, Gimli considered him for a moment before adding, "It was one of the gang lords."

"I presume the one that's now dead?" Boromir offered.

He received a nod in reply, "That would be the one, yes."

Boromir once again reminded himself not all were used to seeing such things and shrugged. "Then hopefully he shall be fine soon enough."

Gimli nodded slightly again, "Aye, hopefully."

Glancing once more at Aragorn, Boromir shook his head and continued down the hall to where his brother was staring and still not saying anything. He almost started hitting his head against the wall.  Faramir glanced up as his brother approached, "Not a word, brother."

"I didn't say a thing," he protested.

"You want to though," the younger brother replied.

"You assume I have so little control then?" Boromir looked at him sideways. "To want something and not know better than not to do it?"

That earned him a sigh and a shake of Faramir's head, "You know I don't assume that at all."  His gaze darted up the hall to where Aragorn had been before he looked back to his brother, "I'll try to get up the courage and talk to Eowyn at lunch."

Feeling bitter about that look, Boromir rolled his shoulders. "I won't believe you unless I have the chance to see it, I'm sure you're aware."

"I am well aware, so you'll have to keep your eyes open," Faramir advised.  "I'm hoping to manage it when her brother isn't standing right there."

"I could try distracting him," Boromir offered. "Or trick Aragorn into it."

Faramir looked skeptical, "Do you think either of you would be able to accomplish distracting Eomer from the fact that someone is approaching his sister with the intent to ask her to dinner?"

"Just don't look like you have that intent," Boromir said, clapping his brother on the shoulder and veering off to his own class.

"Oh that's helpful," Faramir called after him before turning and heading for his own classroom.

w-w-w

Bilbo was pulling his vest on and listening to Thorin in the shower, he honestly should have been long gone for some research on campus with his lack of classes on Tuesdays. He'd been too damn comfortable in bed though, and loathe to leave it.  He startled when a knock came on his door. Freezing, he picked up the candlestick again and considered that he might need to actually get a more ranged weapon and have Thorin teach him how to use it.  He opened the door slightly before throwing it open in shock at the four young teenagers standing on the other side, "What the hell are you lot doing here?"  He managed not to wince as he realized that his language and manners had slipped a good deal since he'd left the Shire.

Standing in the back of the group, Sam Gamgree made a face at that, and in the front, Pippin bounced on his heels. "We're here to visit you of course!"

Bilbo opened his mouth and closed it again, trying to formulate the question he was searching for, "Why?"

Merry shrugged, offering him a grin, "We've been bothering them too much at home or some such."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Bilbo looked to the eldest of the four, hoping he could shed more light on the situation.  Frodo looked back at him, mildly amused and his blue eyes alight with silent laughter, "They've decided we'd be best off on our grand tour now rather than wait."

"Are any of you even out of school yet?" came the weak question.

"Not technically," Merry replied cheerily.  "Holidays started and they seemed to imply that it would be best for us to take the rest of the year."

"Rest of the--Lord above not the rest of the school year as well?"

"Depends on how you want to define a year, truthfully," Pippin said, brightly as Thorin pushed the door of the shower open, toweling off his long hair still and only in his pants. He stopped dead at the sight of Bilbo talking to people at the door and Pippin's eyes just about boggled out of his head.

Merry blinked rapidly and Bilbo turned slightly, willing himself to sink through the floor.  When that didn't happen he cleared his throat sharply to draw the quartet's attention back to himself, "So they send you here with the intention of allowing you to neglect your schooling?  That doesn't seem much like--"

Frodo actually cut him off, gaze still on Thorin even as he spoke to Bilbo, "They sent a letter, did you not receive it?"

"No, I damn well did not receive it, Frodo.  Do you think I'd be standing here gaping at you if I had?"  Bilbo asked in exasperation.  "If you're to be here for the foreseeable future, how much luggage did you bring--dare I ask?"

"Enough to get us through, we just wanted to make sure we had the right apartment," Merry answered.  "And they sent us with paperwork if we decide to stay on as exchange students or some such.  The folks apparently contacted a school around here," he wrinkled his nose slightly.

"What?" Thorin rumbled, too surprised to retreat and put a shirt on. "Bilbo, what on earth is going on?"

His lover smiled thinly, "That is what I am trying to determine.  Apparently my family has decided to send me my three cousins and--" He broke off, blinking at Sam for a long moment, "The gardener's son for their rather early excursion."

"Excursion," Thorin deadpanned back, considering the three and he thought for a moment that the smallest of them was going to faint.

Still in the back, Sam crossed his arms over his chest and mumbled something about sense and Mr. Frodo needing someone to look after him with a molecule of it.

Bilbo laughed, though it sounded strangled, "Nothing against you, young master Gamgee.  I just didn't expect, well any of this."

Frodo sighed, "I told Father I wasn't leaving without Sam joining us.  Regardless, we're here and the question is if we have a place to stay."

"That depends on if you all are interested in sleeping on the floor for however long you're here," Bilbo rejoined, gesturing to the apartment.  "I've only the one bed."

Merry considered that, "Rather than hear about how wanderlust is to be discouraged in respectable Shirelings?  I'll take the floor."  He looked toward Thorin again, "Who's that?"

Expression tightening and smile growing thinner, Bilbo drew a deep breath, "This is Thorin.  Thorin, my cousins, Meriadoc, Peregrin, and Frodo.  And Samwise, a good friend of Frodo's."

Pippin wrinkled his nose. "Bilbo," he whined. "You know better to call me that. And if you only have one bed, where on earth did he come from?" he asked, bobbing his head in Thorin's direction, causing the other to clear his throat sharply. "Did he sleep on the floor then?"

"No," Thorin said and back pedaled. "I came over early to help Bilbo move things and needed a shower afterward is all."

Sam frowned, taking in what seemed like a lame excuse as well as the mass of thick, long hair the other displayed, as well as the scars on his chest. "Seems like a rough sort of folk to be in the company of, begging my pardon."

"If your parents had the decency to wire rather than write to warn me, then you would have the name you prefer, Peregrin," Bilbo answered simply before offering Sam a quelling stare.  "Who I keep company with is my business, not yours, master Gamgee."

"Unless you're offering us your floor," Merry retorted, also bridling at the use of his full name.  He considered Thorin, his family living near enough the border to have frequent dealing with those not of the Shire and he didn't much care for the look of the man--especially if he was going to have to keep his youngest cousin in one piece for the duration.

"I wasn't even planning on you being here!"  Bilbo snapped.  He desperately needed breakfast and his tea and was hoping that this would all turn out to be a nightmare and he'd wake up and the day could start over.

"Well you have us now," Pippin said, still eying Thorin who was giving Sam and Merry a long look in return before shaking his head and stepping to one side.

"You may as well invite them in," he murmured. "I can make breakfast while you settle them, so long as I can put a shirt on first."

Bilbo could feel a headache coming on.  Maybe he could foist them off on Gandalf occasionally.  He dismissed that idea as a bad one as soon as it occurred to him, "Of course.  Come in.  Where have you left your luggage?"

"Customs," Frodo answered, stepping inside.

"Of course you have," Bilbo murmured.  "Well, come make yourselves comfortable, I'm sure we can find something for you lot to eat."

Wanting to rub a hand down Bilbo's neck and through his hair, Thorin shook his head and retreated to find his shirt and vest.

"Nice place you have here," Pippin said brightly even as Sam looked over the place with a critical, and disapproving, eye.

"It serves well for a single college student," Bilbo answered, frowning at Sam even as he crossed to the kitchen and went searching to figure out what he could possibly make stretch to feed them all.

Thorin came back out, more clothed now, frowning as Pippin seemed to try and find as many corners as he could poke his nose into. "There's eggs and bread," he said to Bilbo. "I can cook it if you like. And if you need to feed them more, I'm certain Gandalf would oblige."

"I'm intending to keep them far from him as long as I can.  Though I'll need to go for groceries again later.  It's best we use what's left of the eggs.  And probably most of the bread," he decided, not remarking on the fact that Thorin had just given evidence that he knew well what Bilbo had in the apartment.

Merry wasn't so tactful, "Do you come over often, then?"

"Often enough," Thorin said mildly, in the tone that would often stop even Fili and Kili in their tracks.

It did not have the same effect on young Shire-folk. "Really?" Pippin asked, nearly bouncing to the counter. "And what do you do for dear cousin Bilbo? Are you a handy man of some kind?"

Bilbo choked on air where he was making tea and he was suddenly realizing he owed Kili and Fili an apology for figuring things out about them, and informing them of it so bluntly, "Of some kind."

Frodo looked at him in concern, but it was Merry who spoke, "And do you need those services much?"

He was going to kill his family, the whole massive lot of them, if he ever returned to the Shire.  It would be a bloodbath the likes of which had never been seen before.  Bilbo studiously didn't answer, pouring the hot water into the tea pot.

"I am not a--" Thorin started to protest in vague anger before pulling his tone in. "I am a friend," he said instead. "Who helps when help is needed."

Frodo considered that, his lips quirking ever so slightly in a way that Bilbo recognized as an indication that he wasn't going to let this rest and was getting pleasure in watching the older men squirm, "How long have you known each other?"

"Where did you meet?"  Merry added.

"Since this fall, and we met where your cousin works," Thorin said. "Though my nephew met him first at classes. Does any of that matter?"

"Maybe not," Frodo answered, wide blue eyes giving him a look of innocence.

Merry shrugged, "Just curious.  Where do you work, Bilbo?"

"A restaurant.  I work as a waiter in the evenings on weeknights."

"And is very good at it too," Thorin said and Pippin beamed.

"So you'll feed us there sometime, will you?"

"If I say no you'll just follow me to work, won't you?" Bilbo muttered.

That earned him a sly grin from Merry, "And you know it too."

"Yes, I do in fact know it, Merry.  As such I'll see about feeding you there at some point," he muttered.

"It will be so exciting," Pippin said, as Thorin placed a plate in front of him. Sam, still looking exhausted and a bit sick from travel couldn't say no to food and perked up when Thorin put food in front of him as well.

Bilbo dished up food for Frodo and Merry, setting the plates down and pouring tea, "That's one term for it I suppose.  You'll need to make decisions about how long you're going to stay soon, so I know what sort of plans to make regarding school."

"Give us a few days to settle in, won't you?"  Merry asked, picking up his fork.

"How could you bring up school like that anyway?" Pippin said, tone betrayed.

His elder cousin smiled thinly, "Because I've still got my final papers to write and turn in before I'm finished with my own classes, Pippin.  That's how."

"Have you talked to Fili about those tests yet?" Thorin asked, mild enough as he ate his own eggs. "Or is he insisting he can do it himself?"

"Last I heard he was insisting he can do it himself, but I'll check again," Bilbo assured, spreading jam onto his toast.

Thorin tried not to roll his eyes as Pippin watched them avidly. "Of course he would claim such a thing. He's also insisted on attending all classes while Kili is, once again, milking the chance to stay away from school."

"I'll talk to him.  That's the best I can offer.  I think Professor Elrond will be obliging, but it will be up to him to talk to his other instructors," came the reply as Bilbo ignored the glances Frodo was sending his way.

"Thank you," Thorin said. "For at least that. I'm not sure anyone excepted the first semester to be quite this hard."

"I would say that's because usually it isn't," Bilbo murmured only half paying attention to his meal.  He glanced at the recently arrived quartet and their plates, "When were you all planning to fetch your luggage?"

Frodo shrugged very slightly, "After we saw you sometime."

"How?" Thorin frowned.

"We were going to take a taxi back down," Merry answered.  "Why?"

"The four of you, and luggage, in a taxi?" Thorin protested. "That will never fit and cost far more than you should pay."

"Are you offering to drive us?" Sam asked, tone still suspicious.

"Sam," Frodo murmured softly even as he glanced at Thorin with an echo of the question in his eyes.

"It would," Thorin started and faltered, realizing what he may have just offered. "Be a smarter move."

Bilbo rubbed his eyes, "More cost effective certainly. And he's not likely to take you through every back route he knows to run the meter up."

Merry considered Thorin distrustfully, "Why would you offer that?"

Thorin blinked once and shrugged. "Well, I have no other plans today. Wouldn't wanting to help Bilbo out justify it?"

Merry frowned, but Frodo cut him off, "Probably.  Thank you for the offer, it would help a great deal." Thorin hummed, watching Merry and Sam's distrusting faces and trying not to laugh.

Bilbo rose a few minutes later, "Well, we should probably see to that so Thorin can get on with his day."

Thorin glanced over, having already planned on spending most of the day coaxing Bilbo back into bed and sighed.

Offering him a long-suffering glance as he cleared away the dishes that were finished, Bilbo shrugged very slightly.  He would have preferred to send all four of his sudden visitors home on the next available ship.

As the four filed out, Thorin leaned over to press a kiss to the top of Bilbo's hair before drawing back. "Will you be able to put them up?"

He sighed, desperately wanting to lean into the touch or actually kiss the other, "I'll find some way.  This is going to make my life far more complex than I was planning on it being once I finished my finals."

"Will you have the room?" Thorin asked.

Bilbo looked at his small apartment, considering the floor space, "One or two of them may have to sleep on the floor in my room to fit them for sleeping.  I think I'll want to kill them in a week, though."

Hesitating, Thorin looked over. "You do realize that Gandalf greatly over estimated our numbers. There are many apartments left in the building, and Dwalin has already made arguments against subletting them out to renters not us."

"I'm pretty certain Gandalf underestimated your numbers and whoever did the brokering for him overestimated," Bilbo rejoined to give himself time to consider the implicit offer.  "I don't know if I can in good conscience take those four into that building though.  I at least know what I'm getting into if I were to move.  And Pippin's questions?  That was a mild dose.  He's a Took."

Thorin smiled faintly. I’ll keep that in mind. Though Dwalin is more intimidating than we are. Though, I understand. The offer stands."

"I...will see what this place looks like when I get home from work tonight and seriously consider your offer," Bilbo replied with a slight smile.  "God, do we have to go out there?  Do you think if I lock the door and we slip out the fire escape we could get away?"

"They know where you live," Thorin replied, holding the door open for him. "At any rate, Dis still expects you over for dinner."

"I am not siccing those four on your family over _dinner_ ," Bilbo looked horrified at the thought as he stepped out of the apartment and locked the door behind them.

"You may not say that when you need a break from them," Thorin said. "Dis raised Fili and Kili, remember?"

"You've said those names a number of times," Pippin said, appearing at Bilbo's elbow.

Bilbo jumped, whirling on his young cousin at that, "Where the hell did you come from?"

"Where we've all been waiting for you," Frodo answered from the landing of the next floor.

"That is a dirty lie, Frodo Baggins.  Pippin did not come up those stairs, I would have seen," Bilbo answered tersely

Pippin just shrugged happily. "You didn't answer the question."

"You didn't offer one either," Bilbo replied with a smile.

"Who do the names belong to?"  Merry enunciated so there was no chance of Bilbo or Thorin dodging it.

"My nephews," Thorin replied calmly, having braided his hair while they ate.

Pippin wrinkled his nose again. "That's not very helpful. Or informative."

"That's an answer, though," Bilbo replied almost cheerily.

Merry considered that, eying Thorin before glancing at Bilbo and then back, "And Bilbo has classes with one of them?"

"Yes," Thorin said, tone still level. "With Fili, the elder one."

"That would make you how old now?"  Merry asked, sounding far less innocently curious than Pippin.

"Meriadoc Brandybuck, for the love of God that is not a question you ask," Bilbo snapped.  "Have you forgotten every shred of manners you were taught?"

"I'm sorry, I assumed when you greeted us by swearing that manners were secondary to curiosity," came the response with a grin that wasn't quite as innocent as he was trying for.

"For all you know I had a sister or brother much older than myself," Thorin said, though the pre mature streaks of grey in his hair belayed that somewhat.

Merry looked skeptical at that, but caught a look from Frodo and shrugged, "You're right.  Beg your pardon."

Pippin glanced up. "How old's your nephew then?"

"Twenty one," Thorin replied.

"Isn't that a bit old to just be starting college?" Pippin asked and Thorin arched a brow before shrugging.

"Depends. He didn't find it appealing originally."

"Pippin, Merry," Bilbo's voice was firm, "How about you both leave off on the interrogation of the man who is kindly offering to help us fetch your luggage?"

"But he's so much more obliging than you are," Pippin said.

"That would be because he has no idea exactly how many questions you will find if he continues to answer them," came the response and Thorin barely managed not to laugh, let alone smile.

Merry considered that, "Well, since he's helping us and is a friend of yours I suppose we could stop for now, eh Pip?"

Bilbo shortened the time it would take him to want to kill them to three days at the maximum. As the youths were walking in front of them, Thorin rested a hand on the small of Bilbo's back as Pippin agreed with the affirmative for the moment.

w-w-w

Faramir entered the cafeteria for lunch, pausing as he looked around for Eowyn.  He reminded himself that he could in fact manage this and there was no reason to be so worried about her response.

Deciding that lying to himself was not actually helping, he drew a deep breath and slipped over to his brother's side, "So, did you mention a possibility of distracting Eomer for me?"

"I'll see what I can do," Boromir said, not rolling his eyes and hesitating before approaching Aragorn, tapping him on the shoulder. "So," he said when Aragorn turned his head. "Since I did your friend a favor this morning, I have a request."

"Yes?" Aragorn asked slowly.

"Do help me distract Eomer or my poor brother will _never_ get the guts up to ask Eowyn to dinner and I cannot handle that for much longer."

Blinking once, Aragorn inclined his head, suppressing a smile and having watched Faramir and Eowyn dance around each other for a number of months. "Alright."

Breathing a soft sigh as he saw his brother and Aragorn moving to intercept Eomer and he paused for another long moment before slipping through the cafeteria to where Eowyn was, "Hello."

She startled her gaze over to him from where she'd been watching Aragorn step up to get her brother's attention. "Oh, Faramir. Hello." She smiled as she looked up now she recognized the other.

He offered her a bit of a smile at that, "How are you today?"

"Well, there is a math test looming on the horizon, but otherwise things are as well as they may be. You can sit, if you'd rather," she said, motioning across the table.

He paused, but settled into the seat across from her, sparing a glance for where her brother was, "Not a fan of math, then?"

"Not tests," she replied, picking at the lunch in front of her. "The math itself is well enough."

"When's the test?" he asked, watching her quietly for a moment.

"Tomorrow," she said, shuffling her notes back together and sliding them into her bag. "And how do you fare?"

"Well enough.  I had the chance to see a friend who I haven't talked to in a while.  So, that was good.  And I've no looming tests this week, though that changes next week," came the answer with a slight smile.

"Who was the friend?" she asked, curious.

"Ori.  He graduated last year, hence the not seeing him."

"Oh, I remember him somewhat. He was always reading, wasn't he?" she asked, pushing her blonde hair back and considering him. Across the room, Boromir looked over and barely managed to neither sigh nor roll his eyes.

"Constantly," Faramir agreed with another smile.  "It leads to some interesting discussions, really.  I had some books I thought he would like so we met up to exchange them."  He glanced toward where Eomer looked like he was starting to extract himself from the conversation and turned back to Eowyn figuring he had about three more minutes depending on how long Boromir and Aragorn could stall and how stubborn Eomer was about not keeping up the conversation.

"And what sorts of books do you often keep your nose in?" she asked with a faint smile and quirk of her brow, not realizing her brother was being stalled on purpose.

"Most anything I can get my hands on," Faramir answered.  "Though I tend to prefer ones with a bit more optimism in the telling."

"That is not quite something I would have guessed of you," she laughed. "If only because your brother seems so the opposite."

Something faltered in Faramir's expression but he held his smile in place, "Boromir and I aren't much alike at all, frankly.  We never really have been."

"Which is good," she declared. "He is just louder than you are, and easy to understand."

"Easy to understand?  How so?" he leaned forward ever so slightly, curious.

She rolled her shoulders. "Simply that he seems to carry his passions much closer to the surface, and lets the world know his mind without qualm and you... you seem to play things much closer to your chest. It makes you more of a mystery than his mind."

"He always has had more than enough confidence for both of us," Faramir murmured.  He paused for a long moment before meeting her eyes, "Eowyn, would... this is probably going to seem like it's coming from left field, but would you be interested in going to dinner with me later this week?"

Her eyes widened slightly at him. "Dinner?" she repeated, a shade suspicious.

He seriously weighed the merits of backing down and retreating, but finally nodded, "Yes, dinner."

Still looking wary, she nodded. "Alright, dinner then. It might be a chance to understand you a bit better."

That garnered a hesitant smile, "Maybe so.  Would Friday work for you?"

She considered and then nodded. "Friday would suffice."

"Friday it is then," he confirmed, nearly jumping out of his skin when a voice came from behind him.

"Friday for what?"  Eomer stood there, his eyebrows quirked sharply.

"Faramir has asked me to dinner," Eowyn said, eying her brother as if daring him to disagree.

"Has he really?" Eomer didn't sound thrilled and he half turned, shooting Boromir and Aragorn a dark look as he realized exactly why he had been delayed.  "And you agreed?"

Boromir offered him a charming smile and wave in reply and Aragorn just shrugged. "Why yes, I did," she said, still daring him to tell her no. "And every time you protest, I shall only become more detirmined to go."

"I haven't protested once, yet," Eomer replied, turning his attention back to Eowyn and then glancing at Faramir.  "I'm assuming I don't need to actually threaten you?"

Faramir offered him a quick shake of his head, "No, I'm sure my imagination is more than capable of filling in the blanks for those threats."

Eowyn didn't sigh but she looked like she was considering it. "Mayhaps not, but your expression is protest enough. And don't threaten either, it's not considered polite."

"I didn't threaten either, I simply asked if I needed to," her brother protested.

"You shouldn't even have to do that," she said, glancing up and then smiling faintly at his expression. "Though I suppose I can't argue with the sentiment, I can take care of myself."

"I know you can.  Doesn't mean I don't want to do it for you," Eomer answered with a shrug and another glance at Faramir.

Faramir quickly rose at that, and darted a look at Eowyn, "I should leave you two to your lunch."

"I look forward to getting to understand more of you," Eoywn said, watching him stand.

He offered her a flickering smile, "I look forward to letting you."  He only hoped she'd still say the same once she figured him out.  "Good day."

Gracing him with another smile, confusion and wariness still in her expression, she inclined her head. "And a good day to you as well."

He inclined his head to her as well, offering Eomer a wary glance before retreating.  Frowning after him, Eomer took the seat he'd vacated, "You'll be careful, right?"

She gave him a long look. "Have I ever not been?" she asked, shuffling her notes again.

"Well, no.  I just, don't know much about him."

"You know Boromir and Aragorn though," she said. "And they seemed to vouch for him if distracting you was any indication. If it makes you feel better, perhaps you could go poll them for information," she said, caught between sarcasm and actually trying to make him feel better.

Eomer seriously looked like he was considering that suggestion, "Boromir is a biased source.  But Aragorn might be able to tell me something."

"Of course he'd a biased source," she agreed, a smile hovering at the corner of her mouth. "But you still might learn more interesting things from someone who's closer."

"Maybe so.  I'll see if I can corner either of them this afternoon or tomorrow."

She tried not to laugh in the face of his seriousness, nodding instead. "Perhaps you should."

w-w-w

Eomer pushed open the door to their uncle's house, offering his sister a sharp grin as he stepped in and heard where Theoden was.  He started in that direction and paused at the doorway, "Hello, Uncle.  You'll never guess who has a date this week."

Eowyn's eyes widened in some alarm and she shook her head, following on her brother's heels as Theoden stepped out of his study, shadows under his eyes. "I shall assume it's not you," he said. "And since your cousin is in the hospital again, I'll assume it's not him either."

"No, it's not me.  Eowyn's been asked to dinner on Friday," his nephew answered, studying his uncle for a moment.

"Dinner, on a Friday no less," Theoden said, arching a tired brow and smoothing down her skirt Eowyn tilted her head back.

"Yes."

"I've yet to go prying about him, but from what I've seen he's a quiet, relatively nice and polite young man," Eomer supplied.

"So is there a problem I should be made aware of?" Theoden asked, looking genuinely interested despite the exhaustion in his face.

"Certainly not," Eowyn cut in quickly. "You look tired, uncle. You should rest. I can make dinner tonight."

"Just wanted to let you know why she was out late on Friday," Eomer answered, glancing at his sister.  He paused, "Any word from the hospital about Theodred?"

"Not yet," he said with a slow shake of his head.

"Should we visit?" Eowyn asked. "I know sometimes he prefers we don't but--"

"If he's willing to let us come we could stop by tomorrow on our way home," her brother offered.

Theoden nodded. "That would be... that would be good, I believe. He seemed a bit more down this time." He looked over at his niece, and offered her a tired smile. "You shall have to tell me more about this boy."

Tilting her head slightly, she shrugged, the lift of her shoulders tiny. "There isn't much to tell yet."

"He mostly keeps to himself," Eomer offered.  "Come, Uncle, let's go sit down for a while?"

"You do not need to fuss over me," Theoden protested but allowed them to seat him anyway as Eowyn started bustling around the kitchen, putting a cup of tea in front of him in short order. "Tea?" he said, weakly. "I'd much prefer coffee."

"Not this late at night," she said, shaking her head. "I don't care how much work you have, you must sleep. Besides, I don't want to think about how much coffee you've already had, you'll ruin your stomach."

"Have you eaten today?" Eomer asked, almost gently, knowing that there was a chance Theoden may have forgotten as he did from time to time when he got caught up in work or worry.

Theoden's guilty blink was answer enough for that. "I did not have the time," he said and Eowyn clicked her tongue, asking her brother to fetch the beef in the cold box for her.

Eomer sighed, but moved to grab the meat and, glancing at what his sister was making, started to chop it for her, "Uncle, you must eat."

"And now I shall," he assured, looking between them.

His nephew glanced at him, but didn't say anything beyond, "We'll try to see about leftovers tonight.  It would just mean heating it tomorrow then."

He nodded gratefully, trying to remember how he survived in the few years between his wife's death and the children of his sister moving in with him and his only son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So VS missed the "Update on the 19th!" deadline by like an hour (It's still the 19th somewhere right?). But considering the sheer number of deadlines she has had to meet in the last few days... 
> 
> Both your authors have survived another finals week! This is our celebratory chapter!
> 
> Because Hobbits. The the Fellowship in high school. (Eowyn and Boromir are actually somewhat hard characters to translate to a high school setting as so much of them is wrapped up in the darkness of Mordor and being warriors). 
> 
> And because I can, your preview for the next chapter: Dwalin paused when a knock came on the door, considered the time of day and pushed it open. He blinked down at four upturned faces, Bilbo standing behind him. "What's this?" he asked, folding his arms over his chest.


	15. Take Such Little Things like that Personally

Dwalin paused when a knock came on the door, considered the time of day and pushed it open. He blinked down at four upturned faces, Bilbo standing behind him. "What's this?" he asked, folding his arms over his chest.

“I'll explain it later," Bilbo sighed, having tripped over Frodo and nearly stepped on Sam when he got up that morning and that was after having gotten home from work to a barrage of questions from Pippin and Merry.  "Is Thorin here?"

"He's upstairs, I believe," Dwalin said, and frowned. "Doing business. You should probably not go up."

Bilbo pinched the bridge of his nose, "Fantastic. We'll wait until he's done then.  I do rather need to speak with him."

"Kili," Dwalin called, the teenager and his brother sitting and talking with Oin. "Go fetch your uncle. He seems to have quite a few guests." Though he’d rather scare Bilbo off, he did not want the swarm of strangers to stay in their foyer for long.

Kili arched a brow before taking off up the stairs, Fili coming over in curiosity. "What's all this then?"

 Sighing, Bilbo shook his head, "May we come in off of the front step?"

"If you're sure they won't get their noses in trouble," Dwalin rumbled, looking down his own nose at the four young Shirelings.

"With your help I'm certain we can keep them in the foyer, Mister Dwalin," Bilbo offered hopefully.

"That would require me to be inclined to help," Dwalin said, shaking his head slightly as Fili tilted his head. Pippin gaped open mouthed up at the blond, with his braids and still healing cuts and splinted wrist.

Merry was frowning at Dwalin's tattoos and Fili's splinted wrist.  Bilbo shrugged, "Well, I can tell you right now I've next to no control over them.  I never have."

"That's not reassuring," Fili commented, looking over. "Seriously, Bilbo, what's this?"

"Meet the three cousins and the gardener's son that my family sent me as an early Christmas gift," Bilbo murmured.  "They could be here through the end of the year or through June, I don't know yet."

"You don't know?" Fili asked, looking over as Pippin continued gapping up at him. "Where are they staying?"

"Currently on the floor of my apartment," Bilbo sighed.

"Which isn't working as well as he seemed to think it would last night," Frodo murmured with a faint smile.

"No, I can't imagine it would," Fili said, paling slightly at the memory of when he slept on that floor before shrugging it off. "At least it's not a terribly uncomfortable floor."

"Until he kicks you in the back on his way to making breakfast," Frodo supplied.

"See, he managed not to do that when we were there," Fili remarked. "Though, I suppose there were only two of us to your four."

Bilbo hummed, "I only accidentally kicked Frodo because he'd rolled over in the night and he was far closer to my bed than when he'd gone to sleep."

"How tragic," Fili remarked.

"And what were you doing on Mr. Baggin's floor, anyway?" Sam asked, still eying Dwalin sideways.

"They needed a place to stay and they happen to be friends of mine, Master Gamgee," Bilbo answered smoothly.

Sam muttered something and shrugged, Fili raising his brows and trying not to laugh. "You've got a lot of braids," Pippin said, finally having reattached his jaw.

Bilbo rubbed his eyes wearily at that, resisting the urge to snap.  Merry shook his head slightly at his cousin, "Pippin."

"They're very pretty," Pippin said, eyes wide and earnest and Fili blinked once.

"Thank you?"

Sighing softly, Bilbo shook his head, "Meet Pippin.  That one there's Merry, the dark-haired one here is Frodo and that there is Sam."

"Fili, at your service," Fili said, giving them a joking bow and Pippin's jaw dropped again. Back at his position at the door, Dwalin scoffed.

Frodo couldn't help the slight chuckle at Fili's actions and he inclined his head, "A pleasure to meet you."

His mouth twitching, Fili looked over the four again before glancing at Bilbo. "Was this why Thorin came back in such a huff yesterday?"

"It was hardly a huff," Thorin protested from where he was coming down the stairs with Kili.

"I'd say that's probably a safe assumption," Bilbo answered with a smile, relaxing ever so slightly when he spotted Thorin.

["And what do we have to thank for you and your brood gracing our presence today?" Thorin asked, eyes warmer than usual and Kili looked at him sideways, Fili trying not to laugh.

"I tripped over Frodo and stepped on Sam when I got up this morning," Bilbo answered with a sigh.  "I was wondering if your offer from yesterday was still open, and I didn't want to leave them alone in the apartment again."

"We're not children," Merry protested and earned himself a long look from Bilbo that clearly communicated that he thought otherwise.

"But you are far from home, and it is perhaps best not to be out on your own," Thorin said and looked at Bilbo. "We should talk."

Bilbo nodded his agreement, "We should."  He paused, glancing at his cousins and Sam, "You lot are going to behave, right?"

"Of course," Pippin said and Dwalin gave them all a long look, making Sam take a full step back away from him.

"I'm not so sure we'll have much of a chance to do otherwise, begging your pardon, Mr. Baggins."

Bilbo smiled at that, something sharp in the expression, "No, I would say that's a fair assessment, Master Samwise."  Frodo rocked back on his heels slightly at Dwalin's look, Merry frowning and glancing at Pippin.

Pippin was beaming at the room in general, still enthralled by all the new people and without displaying a care in the world. Kili came down the rest of the steps as Bilbo and Thorin ascended back up to Thorin's apartment. "How hard could watching four young ones be?" he asked and Fili shot him a hard and fast look.

"I'm sorry, have you already forgotten our childhood?"

Kili tried to cover his laugh with one hand. "They're nothing like us, lookit them."

Merry offered him an innocent grin at that, "So you two were troublemakers then?"

Frodo sighed, shaking his head very slightly as he looked at Fili and Kili, "Please don't encourage them."

"Encourage?" Kili asked, tone innocent enough and Dwalin scoffed again.

"The state of you two should warn anyone off following your example," he said, as Pippin inched closer, interested in the tattoos on Dwalin's forearms.

"That wasn't our fault," Kili protested, holding his splintered arm closer to his side.

Merry's attention was more on Fili and Kili than on Pippin for the moment, "What happened?"

Kili tensed and Fili shrugged. "Someone took offense to us is all."

The young shireling considered that, but finally nodded, "I suppose that does happen."

"It's a rather violent offense," Sam remarked, still distrustful in the face of so many strange and new people.

Fili glanced over at him. "It was a pretty violent type. So. What brings the four of you out here to settle with dear Bilbo?"

"We're not really settling with him," Frodo responded.  "It's a bit of a tradition where we come from to leave home for a trip.  Usually one waits until they've graduated, but our parents opted to send us all early."

"I thought the Shire folk almost never left?" Kili said, behind Fili's shoulder and barely restraining himself from resting his chin on his brother's shoulder.

"And so young," Fili frowned slightly. "It's a long way to come."

"Most only leave once for a short trip, unless you're a Took or Brandybuck," Frodo glanced at his younger cousins, earning a grin from Merry.

The younger shireling continued, "Then we have a tendency to either leave repeatedly or leave for long periods of time.  Bagginses and Bracegirdles tend to be more homebodies."

The two brothers glanced at each other as Dwalin tilted forward, suddenly more interested. "The Bagginses are homebodies?" Fili asked, frowning as he tried to reconcile that.

Merry nodded, "You should hear Cousin Bungo when he truly gets going about his wayward son and his Tookish ways.  It's quite the experience."

"I'd not have expected it of him," Kili said finally. "He's always seemed so... proper like." Fili managed not to roll his eyes or whack his brother considering he could guess exactly what Bilbo and Thorin were doing with a door between them and the four newcomers.

That garnered a quiet laugh from Frodo and a tone that slipped a shade toward sarcasm, "Oh I'm sure he has."

The corner of Fili's mouth twitched as Pippin finally achieved his goal of sliding up to Dwalin, poking one of the tattoos. Merry's attention finally moved in that direction and he collared his younger cousin, "Pippin!"

"They're very lovely," Pippin said brightly as Dwalin's eyes widened and he looked down. "Did it hurt to get so many? I doubt my parents would ever allow it."

Kili stifled his laugh in Fili's shoulder, the elder blinking rapidly as Dwalin shrugged, still looking distrustful of everyone there. "The pain was minor and most parents would disapprove."

Frodo did his best to disguise a laugh as a cough at Merry's expression.  Merry tugged on Pippin's arm as their dark haired cousin spoke, "Really, Pip, you don't even know what they're for."

"Does that matter?" Pippin asked, looking over and Kili was almost in hysterics. "Does it?" he repeated, looking back up at Dwalin.

"Yes," Dwalin said. "They're all there to stand for something."

"I'd like to hear about it someday," Pippin said.

"Those are not stories for such young ears," Dwalin said.

Kili finally looked up. "Yeah, I haven't even heard all of them yet."

"We're not that young," Merry protested and Frodo sighed, shaking his head in a way that was reminiscent of Bilbo.

"Merry, there's no need to be testy.  You're not even sixteen yet."

"And you're so much older and wiser, then, Frodo?"  Merry's brows rose at that.

"I didn't say that."

"I am," Fili tired to say, and didn't look impressed when Kili doubled over laughing again.

"So if you're Fili, you'd be twenty-one then?" Merry asked, attention turning to Fili.  "He's right, Frodo, he's got age at least on us."

Frodo offered his cousin a long look, the sort Merry usually earned for stealing Farmer Maggot's crops, "Merry..."

Fili blinked in shock as if not having expected anyone to know his age or buy his authority and now even Dwalin was trying not to laugh. "Say," Pippin said. "You are all wearing quite a lot of braids too."

Before Fili could inform him just how much he should not ask, Ori came clattering down the stairs, yarn and tea and various artistic odds and ends bundled in his arms.

Frodo's brows rose at that, but he couldn't suppress his smile at the new arrival.  Merry's gaze darted in that direction and he considered the sudden appearance with a faint frown.

The front door opened and Bofur stepped inside from where he'd been running errands for some of the people in the building.  He knew the back roads well enough that he could be in and out in very little time especially on a weekday morning.  He paused and blinked at the four strangers in the foyer, buttoning his suit jacket to better conceal the underarm holster he wore.

Ori had hesitated on the landing to the second floor, and looked over in some alarm at Bofur. "What's all this?" he asked, almost retreating.

"Bilbo appears to have relatives," Fili returned, arching a brow at the four of them. "We're supposed to be watching them."

"Who on this green earth would ask you two to watch other teenagers?" Ori blurted.

That startled a laugh out of Bofur, "That seems like a very good question.  Also, where did they come from and why are they here?"

Fili graced them both with a dark look. "They came from the Shire for their grand tour so far as anyone can tell and to pester their cousin."

"Some tour if they ended up here," Bofur replied with a grin.  He glanced at the Shirelings, "How long are you all here for?"

"Anywhere from one month to six," Frodo answered easily.

"Where are you staying?" Ori asked, eyes widening in some alarm.

"Bilbo's floor currently," Frodo answered.

"But we'll see how long that lasts, since Bilbo stepped on Sam this morning," Merry added brightly.

"I thought he was stepping on Frodo," Pippin said as Sam muttered something under his breath and Ori looked slightly more alarmed about the entire thing.

"No, he tripped over me and kicked me in the back.  He stepped on Sam while he was trying to catch his balance," Frodo corrected.  "I didn't recognize about half the words he used at that point."

"I don't want to think about who might have taught them to Bilbo in the first place," Kili muttered and Fili rolled his eyes.

"He was never so innocent as you seem to assume."

"I'll vouch for that," Merry offered.

Frodo gave his cousin a long look, "You lived several miles away, I can't see how you can reasonably vouch for that at all."

"I've suddenly decided I don't want to know," Kili declared as Ori frowned at them.

"Yes, but why are you all standing here, in Fili and Kili's eye sight?" Ori asked.

"Bilbo dragged us here with him.  He had to talk to Thorin about something and didn't want to leave us alone like he did last night when he went to work," Frodo offered with a shrug.

"Coming home must have been, interesting," Ori offered finally, eyes drifting over to Bofur and giving him a warm smile.

Bofur returned the expression easily.  Merry shrugged, "It wasn't so bad as that."

"You and Pippin had gone through every cupboard and drawer in his apartment and you'd forgotten to close half of them, and the bookshelf was in complete disarray too," Frodo reminded.

Kili coughed and Fili tried not to roll his eyes or shake his head. "A classic move," he remarked, frowning slightly between Ori and Bofur.

"Our mistake was not making sure everything was back where it was supposed to be," Merry admitted.  "On the other hand, I claim a certain level of boredom was to blame when there was nothing interesting in any of the cabinets."

Fili coughed once, shaking his head slightly. "I'm sure your cousin leads an entirely sensible life in the big city, what on earth were you expecting to find?"

"One never knows with Bilbo," Frodo answered honestly.

"No inclinations?" Fili asked, actually curious as Ori slipped over to stand next to Bofur, weaving around those already in the foyer.

Merry shrugged, "Scandalous books for starters.  I'm pretty sure we could hear his father from Buckland when he caught him with some rather racy ones several years ago."

Kili choked and Fili barely managed to keep an even remotely straight face. "That," he started and shook his head, not saying that maybe Bilbo lent them to Thorin after the fire. "Would actually explain something."

"What?" Kili looked over.

"Well, his reaction when Thorin mentioned that you were reading and we both spared a moment to looked panicked," Fili said and his brother hit him on the shoulder opposite from where he was injured. "Bilbo seemed to think all reading materials were open."

"He was fifteen," Frodo added.  "My father has since been strict about what sort of books cross our threshold, and I'm pretty sure most of the Shire was aware of Bilbo's father's thoughts on the matter."

Bofur chuckled and shook his head but didn't say anything, most of his attention on Ori and the craft supplies the other had in hand.

"Finals are coming up," Ori said, blushing faintly at the consideration. "I needed to go to campus, and see if I can bring anything together."

Fili coughed into his hand. "I'm sure fifteen is an entirely respectable age," and both Dwalin and Sam gave him a hard look.

"Do you want me to go with you, safety in numbers and all that?" Bofur asked mutedly.

Merry grinned at that, "See, that's what I say.  No one believes me though."

"Well that's because no one should believe you," Sam protested.

"I believe you," Pippin said, looking vaguely wounded as Ori blushed and looked down.

"You can come if you would like,” he told Bofur.

Merry slung an arm around Pippin's shoulders with a grin, "And that is why we get along so well, Pip."

"Sam's right, Merry.  No one in their right mind should believe you," Frodo said, a smile tugging the corners of his lips.

Bofur pulled on his right braid, but nodded, "I would like."

The smile tugging at the corner of Ori's mouth finally got Fili's full attention. "Oi, Bofur," he drawled, shifting over slightly. "How many variations of the shovel talk have you gotten yet?"

"Dori hasn't cornered me met, but I'm expecting it any day," Bofur responded.  "But Bombur and Bifur both have.  Nori too."

"A respectable amount," Fili said. "Do we need to bother throwing our hats in or are you good and thoroughly terrified for your safety?"

"I am thoroughly terrified for my safety," came the reply.  "I can infer threats from the rest of the building easily enough."

"Good," Fili said, patting him on the shoulder and getting a confused look from Kili and Ori blushed even deeper, looking vaguely murderous under his knitwear.

Frodo glanced in their direction and his brows rose sharply, but Bofur just offered Fili a smile that didn't look as strained as it was.

"Just remember to breath," Fili offered and Dwalin gave a despairing look around the room, gaze running into Sam who seemed to be in the middle of the very same act.

"Does anyone have any idea what offer Bilbo was talking about?" Frodo hazarded after a moment.

"Offer?" Kili looked over. "There was an offer?"

"That's what he said.  He asked if the offer from yesterday was still open," the dark haired shireling replied.

Dwalin's expression darkened and Ori, Fili, and Kili all frowned in confusion. Bofur blinked at that, glancing at Fili and Kili and realizing they looked as confused as he felt.  Frodo's brows rose, "I'll take that as a no then."

"Well, it could be," Fili started and shook his head. "That would be insane."

Frodo eyed him warily, "Could be what?"

w-w-w

Once they were in Thorin's apartment and the door was closed behind them, Bilbo leaned up and kissed the older man before drawing back slightly, "God I've been wanting to do that."

"It's not even been a day," Thorin laughed, weaving his hands through Bilbo's hair and bracing him back against the door, pressing their mouths together again.

Hands moving to Thorin's shoulders, Bilbo leaned into the kiss, managing to draw back enough to speak, "I was planning on parting with one yesterday but that kind of went to hell."

"Yes, that did get rather interrupted," Thorin agreed, nuzzling into Bilbo's temple. "But since they are downstairs, we should actually talk about whatever you wished to discuss."

"I don't think I can handle them in that little apartment for a week much less a month or six," Bilbo admitted, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Thorin's shoulder.  "I kicked Frodo and stepped on Sam and I'm already set to strangle Pippin and Merry the next time I find a cupboard door open."

"Do you have anything you'd like to hide from them?" Thorin asked, hands at his waist. "Or is it too late already?"

"Anything I wish to hide I keep under my mattress, which from the state of the apartment when I got home from work last night is the only place they didn't go snooping," Bilbo muttered.

"You could drop it off here if you like," Thorin said, nose still pressed into Bilbo's hair. "Unless I'm not supposed to see it either." He paused, taking a deep breath. "Would you move here then?"

"It's hidden more out of habit than necessity," Bilbo responded before sighing.  "I don't know.  I just...I honestly can't put them up in that single bedroom place, but I stand by what I said yesterday about not being sure I can in good conscience bring them here either."

"For it is dangerous," Thorin said with a soft sigh.

"Exactly." Bilbo shifted slightly so his arms were around Thorin and his head rested against the other's chest, "You met them yesterday, so you have some glimpse of what it could mean.  Pippin's got an innocent curiosity about him, but he goes too far, and Merry looks at things and asks questions and knows too much.  Frodo, he's quiet but he picks up on things and Sam, well I don't really know him, but he's loyal and just as likely to get himself into danger attempting to keep Frodo out of it as anything."

"I think you underestimate how often this house has seen strong willed young children with a perchance for trouble," Thorin rumbled. "But I understand your point. They did not grow up here, and Fili and Kili are not the most reassuring examples to give of how we take care of our children. Ori, perhaps, is more so, and I couldn't tell you about Gimli."

"Bombur's lot seem to do pretty well," Bilbo murmured.  "I'm certain I can't handle them on my own and they'll end up in trouble in this town simply by breathing." He hesitated again, "Is that offer from yesterday still open?"

"Would you live here?" Thorin asked. "If you are willing it is open. Perhaps you could even convince some of Bombur's children to watch them."

"I'm willing," came the quiet response.  "I'll remain worried about them, but I'd do that no matter what as long as they're in town."

"Are you certain you understand what it might mean?" Thorin asked, eyes on Bilbo's face.

"Beyond having an express tie to you and the other Ereborians that your enemies are likely to pick up on?" Bilbo responded, expression serious and gaze steady.

"I believe Smaug has already picked up on it," Thorin said after a moment.

Bilbo hesitated at that, remembering Thorin's nephews mentioning something else Smaug had picked up on, "This will just act as confirmation for him.  Is there anything else I should understand?"

"The very fact that you would be moving in with me," Thorin offered.

Bilbo felt his cheeks color very slightly, but he nodded, "That had crossed my mind.  Is it a problem?"

"No," Thorin said. "But I would rather you be entirely comfortable with the idea first."

Bilbo considered that for a long moment before he nodded, "I...I understand and I'm alright with that fact."

Smoothing a hand over Bilbo's hair, Thorin leaned down to kiss him again, other hand on his hips. "It would make this easier," he murmured.

Bilbo leaned up into the kiss, humming his agreement as one of his hands slipped into Thorin's hair--careful of the braids.

"Perhaps you can even slip away from them more," Thorin said.

"I think I'm enrolling them in school tomorrow, too. Frodo gave me the paperwork their parents sent last night.  I know it's nearly Christmas vacation, but I need time to study and I can't see finding that time with them constantly around," Bilbo admitted.

A smile tugged the corner of Thorin's mouth. "Kili and Gimli will be thrilled, I'm sure."

"Pippin is going to be far less than happy with me about it as well," came the wry response.

Thorin laughed. "Does he not enjoy classes then?"

"He's under the impression he's on break already.  And if he were home that might be true," Bilbo replied with a smile.

"So you're to crush his heart then?" Thorin said.

Bilbo offered an almost contrite expression at that, "I hate to do it, but needs must."

"I'm sure it will be good for him in the long run."

"So I suppose the question now becomes what apartments you have available."

"There's a large one on the top floor," Thorin said. "Or a few smaller ones clustered around the second floor no one else seems to desire."

"It might be best to go with the large one upstairs, honestly," Bilbo mused.

Thorin nodded. "It would be closer to here," he said, trying to sound casual. "And it would keep them furthest from the danger of the door, and Fili and Kili's influence."

"Which reminds me, we really ought to get downstairs again.  Even though Dwalin's there, so are your nephews."

"Dwalin is certainly not a good influence," Thorin said, shaking his head.

Bilbo leaned up to kiss him lightly again, "Then perhaps we should go see about them, then?"

"You're very distracting," Thorin murmured.

"You say that as though you're any better."

"You're the one insisting we go downstairs," Thorin said. "I'd be quite content to stay up here."

Bilbo leaned his head back against the door, "I'd prefer neither of us ever leave this room, but that would certainly lead to questions."

"Questions," Thorin agreed. "And probably disaster."

"Definitely disaster," came the response, even as Bilbo kissed him again.

"They would surely do something, that could," Thorin paused, kissing him instead before continuing. "End in ruin for themselves or others."

"And we really ought to go prevent that.  Besides," he drew Thorin closer for yet another kiss, "the plan is for me to move in just upstairs."

"Thank the stars for that," Thorin murmured and finally stepped back, pushing his braids out of his face.

Bilbo drew a deep breath and moved away from the door, "Shall we see about putting that into motion?"

"How soon as you willing to come?" Thorin asked in response.

"As soon as I can get the broken lease issue sorted out with my current landlord," Bilbo answered.

"Will you need help with it?" Thorin asked, pushing the door open.

"With the broken lease or with the moving?"

"Both," he said, starting down the stairs.

Bilbo fell into step with him, "I think I'll be fine with the lease, I'll probably need help with the moving though.  I haven't even a car, much less something that will allow me to shift my furniture over here."

"We have a truck," Thorin said. "As well as my own car."

"I'd be very grateful for the help.  I'll also need to see about beds for the lot of them as well."

"We have become quite skilled at finding beds in this city," Thorin replied, tone grimmer than it had been.

Bilbo hesitated for a moment before catching Thorin's hand and pulling him to a stop on the stairs, "Thorin, I... thank you for this."

"What else would I do?" Thorin said. "Don’t' act like my motives are so pure either. With the four of them on your floor I could never come over and you could hardly leave them alone for long. I'd like not see you again for six months."

"I never said they were pure, but I still appreciate it," Bilbo offered quietly.

"Just so long as you do not believe things of me that are not true," Thorin rumbled.

"Of course not," Bilbo replied, letting go of Thorin's hand and starting down the stairs again.

w-w-w

Dwalin let out a long breath once all the young Shirelings and Bilbo had left, shaking his head. Fili and Kili were still suppressing giggles on the other side of the room and he shook his head. "If either of you would like to be useful, you could at least fetch my grading."

"So you could do it while you guard the door?" Fili said.

"I thought you scared your TAs into doing that all for you," Kili said, leaning against his brother's side before remembering others could see them and misconstrue such an action, straightening.

"I usually can," Dwalin said. "But some things need my touch so try to make yourselves useful."

Dis came down the stairs, pausing when she saw Fili, Kili, and Dwalin there.  She felt a soft smile grace her features, but reached the bottom of the flight and stopped there.

"It's too bad we don't have an excuse to leave," Kili said.

"However, being terribly injured, I'm not really inclined to go running up the stairs." When Dawlin gave him a dark look, Fili laughed. "We can watch the door if you're that worried."

"What are you needing, Dwalin?"  Dis finally spoke.

Dwalin startled, and looked over. "Papers," he said. "I might as well double task, while watching the door."

She glanced at her sons, "I think that's quite a good idea.  Why don't you run up and find those for him?"

In unison, they looked from their mother, to Dwalin, and then each other before deciding vacating the lobby was their best plan.

She watched them go before crossing to Dwalin's side and looking up at him, "Can we talk?"

"Is there anything in particular you would like to talk of?" he asked, tone more wary than he had intended it to be.

Dis sighed softly, "Us.  I responded more harshly than I should have when last we spoke."

As Dwalin had been doing everything possible to avoid her since then, he shrugged as if to brush it off. "Hardly harsh," he said, looking at the wall.

"Which is why I've hardly seen you since then?" she offered.

"It's getting near finals," he protested.

That garnered another sigh and a shake of her head, "We still live in the same building and it takes a lot of work to not see someone--even when you are busy."

"That's not entirely true," he protested. "It's actually quite simple if you know how to go about it. Just ask Dori or Bofur."

"And have you asked them how one would go about it?"  Dis smiled very faintly.

"Certainly not," he huffed. "I would hardly need their advice."

"So have you been avoiding me then?"

Dwalin paused. "Not nearly so systematically as Bofur has been avoiding Dori's line of sight."

"Why are you avoiding me?" She asked after a moment, filing the bit about Bofur and Dori away.

"You would truly ask me that question?" he replied in some surprise.

"I would like to know why you've been avoiding me rather than talking about what was said, yes," she responded.  "I don't know you as well as I once did and I don't know what goes on in your head."

"I think that is because you are underestimating how much I fear what you might have to say," he said, looking over.

Dis weighed his words and considered how best to respond for a long moment before she nodded, "That...that I can understand.  Is it true what Thorin said?  That it's been years?"

"Surely that cannot be a surprise," he said and seemed to consider. "Yes, it truly has been."

"No, not so much of a surprise.  Would you have ever told me?"

"I thought that at least I had expressed," he said, crossing his arms and then realizing it either looked intimidating or defensive and dropped them to his side.

"That..." she sighed, "You did, yes.  I still don't fully understand why though."

"Those are the only reasons I have," he murmured.

That garnered a fond, if exasperated smile, "My husband is long gone, and my sons are full grown--or nearly.  What say you to that?"

He hesitated. "That perhaps I have gotten so used to thinking in one way it is hard for me to adjust to anything else."

"And could..." she paused, considering before speaking again, "And could you learn to adjust?"

"I am not such an old dog that I cannot learn any new tricks," he protested.

"Then what say you if I were to tell you that I consider you to be worth it?"

He considered her face before lifting his shoulders. "I might ask why, but that would perhaps be pressing my luck far too much. I suppose I would just have to learn to accept it."

"The only answer I could give, were you to ask, is because you're you," Dis replied.  "I know that doesn't make much sense, but it's true."

"It's likely the only answer that such a question deserves."

"Where does this put us, Dwalin?" She asked, glancing up at him again.

"I would hardly know," he said, looking up the stairs and frowning at the fact that neither Fili nor Kili had reappeared in quite some time.

"They know that when I send them on an errand I expect them gone for at least twenty minutes," Dis said in explanation for her sons' continued absence.  "They'll be back."  She turned her attention back to the matter at hand, "Are you going to continue to avoid me?"

He eyed her sideways. "Is there a reason I should?"

"Not that I can think of.  And considering what I just said I should seriously hope there isn't."

He didn't quite smile, but the corner of his mouth twitched. "Then I shall do everything I may to not avoid you. I may even take to seeking you out."

"I look forward to that," Dis murmured in reply.

He blinked once. "If you say you shall, I shall try to provide."

"I rarely say something I don't mean, Dwalin," her voice was gentle.

"That I do know," he said, with a faint smile. "Though time can change things."

"Time changes many things, but thankfully not all."

"I shall be glad of that then," he said, looking like he might have wanted to reach out but not daring to.

Dis paused for a moment before resting a hand on his arm. Looking down, he offered her a faint smile.

w-w-w

Thorin hesitated in front of the door, looking back at Bofur and Dori. "And you remember," he said. "Utterly nothing personal can go on once we're past that door. This is business."

Dori nodded once, "Of course."

Bofur inclined his head, "As you say, sir."

Taking a breath, Thorin glanced once more at the guards standing in the anteroom before pushing the door open. The room beyond was filled with noise and gambling tables, alcohol flowing freely and yells going up from every table.

Bofur glanced around the room, shifting so he rested more on the balls of his feet as he walked.  He was careful not to reach for his gun though he wanted to.  Dori's gaze flickered around, feeling moderately secure with his weapons well concealed.

 "Be on your guard," Thorin said, uselessly, shoulders tense, as they walked.

Dori nodded once as two security members approached to show them into the gambling den owner's receiving room.  Bofur murmured under his breath, "Doesn't mind a show of force an power, does he now?"

"He has the power to show off, after all," Thorin remarked and fell silent as they were led inside the back room of the barge.

Silently grateful for the fact that it was a calm night, Dori let his gaze flicker around the back room.  It was less noisy than the front room, but it was dimly lit and he didn't like the number of shadows there.  They were useful for those who didn't want to be noticed, but played hell for those who wanted to know what was going on around them.

"So it's the Ereborians," a high voice said from the back, "I can't imagine why you're here."

"To see if you're willing to treat," Thorin said, watching the large shape in the back move and approach.

Tall, and broad, the man known by his moniker of the Great Goblin stared down at Thorin, who was tall compared to most. "And why on earth should I do such a thing?"

"Because there's a business opportunity here potentially," Bofur offered, his attention mostly turning to the Great Goblin.

"And what need of your business would I have?" the man rumbled, crossing his arms over his chest, eyebrows arching up together.

"Well, further business can't be a harm," Dori responded.

"With the likes of you?" the Great Goblin asked, swaying his head and shaking it, his chins moving with the movement. "What a fool I would have to be! With your fortunes so far on the wane!"

"They are rising again," Thorin rumbled.

"Times change and the winds of chance are shifting back in favor," Bofur said, his attention slipping away to focus on a couple of the guards in the room.

The laugh they got was ugly. "Once kings, then lords of the underworld and now even your home is subject to attack. How far the mighty have fallen. How could your fortunes have been changed?"

"I don't know how much of a concern that is when they are," Dori responded.

"Because despite our differences, I was quite close to Azog before you killed him," he said, eying Thorin. "Remind me how? Bashing his head in?"

"He was threatening to mine," Thorin said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I know you were business partners but surely you can't expect everyone in this line of business to survive for long."

Bofur shifted his weight slightly, his gaze darting to Thorin briefly, "Things happen in this world, it can't be held against the one who does it every time."

"We were quite close," the Great Goblin said, shaking his head. "It affronts me on a personal level, to work with his murderer."

"I'm not sure putting down a dog counts as murder," Thorin remarked which startled a harsh laugh out of the man in front of him.

Dori huffed slightly, the conversation was looking like it wasn't productive and the way it seemed to be going was likely to end them in more trouble than it was worse.

"If you say so," the Great Goblin said. "I'm still not sure what use I would have with the dredges of society."

Dori bit back his thoughts, but Bofur didn't manage it and muttered, "Says the man who's running a gambling den on a former coal barge."

"But I was born here," he said, spreading his hands out. "You fell here."

"Not all of us," Bofur replied with a scowl.

"Most of you then."

Bofur spoke up again, "But what does the fact that they have fallen here matter to doing business?  It's obvious that our business has lasted, which means that it could be a fair investment on your part."

"But I would have to invest in someone I mistrust," the man said, shaking his head again.

"Which is a risk most anyone takes in business these days," came the steady response from Bofur.

Thorin glanced sideways at him, having decided at least for the moment Bofur was being a better negotiator than himself. The Great Goblin just laughed, shaking his head. "I've been on this barge for many years and I certainly didn't stay here by trusting to fools."

"Well, no, one would hardly think you would have," Bofur replied.  "But one can't run a business without the occasional risk either."

"You certainly aren't a worthwhile risk," he said, looking Bofur over with distaste. "Though at least you're more polite than the would be king."

Bofur's jaw clenched very slightly at that, but he offered a slight bow, "I'm sorry you think that, sir.  As has been said, our prospects are improving and the business investment is not such a risk as some seem to think."

"Aye, you may think that," he said, leaning down slightly to be closer to Bofur's eye level. "But there's a red and gold dragon on your tail you might like to look out for."

"Smaug's not taken us low yet," Thorin said, tilting his chin back.

"Nor is he likely to in the near future," Dori added with a hint of indignation.

"You're underestimating him," he said. "I hear he stabbed you in public and got away with it."

"There was hardly the evidence," Thorin said. "Gang business anyway."

Bofur glanced between the lot of them before addressing the Great Goblin again, "So you've fully made your mind up then?"

"I've heard nothing to convince me otherwise."

"And is there anything that would, sir?" came the response.

"You could try to awe me," he said, bulk stepping backward. "But I could hardly give you a guide to such a thing."

"What if we were to manage to prove ourselves as a good business investment? Would that be suitable to awe you?" Bofur asked.

"So long as you do it quickly," he smirked.

"Give us a couple of days?" came the offer from Bofur.

"I may manage that long, but if promising business appears before hand, I can hardly turn it down."

Bofur inclined his head, "Of course, we could hardly ask that of you."

"We'll see ourselves out," Thorin said.

"Of course you shall. I would hardly spare anyone to see you out."

The three of them left, passing through the main room and into an antechamber.  Just as they were reaching the last door, it opened and an impeccably dressed Smaug stepped through, his hand coiled around the top of his walking stick.

Thorin stopped, eying the other warily. "Smaug, how shocking to find you here."

"Really?  I might say the same to you, Thorin.  I had heard of a business opening and I would be a fool not to try for it," he smiled serenely.  "Don't tell me I'm already too late?"

"He's still taking auditions," Thorin drawled.

"Ah, then there's still a chance.  A better one than you, I would hazard.  How did it go with you having caved in Azog's skull?"  Smaug asked, one eyebrow rising knowingly.

"Some people are inclined to take such little things like that personally," Thorin replied, snide in his anger.

"I had heard that they were friends, or as close to friends as one can get in this business," Smaug returned.  "You certainly are brassy to stroll in here and expect him to offer you a business agreement."

"Considering that everyone seems fond of telling me that I have nothing else going for me, I suppose I shall have to settle on being known for my sheer brass," Thorin said, inclining his head. "Good evening, Smaug."

"Good evening, Thorin," Smaug offered him a mocking half-bow and stepped past them.  He paused with his hand on the interior door, "Oh, and before I forget.  Do wish those delightfully incestuous nephews of yours well from me, would you?"

Thorin tensed, taking a breath before turning. "Come again?"

Smaug's eyes widened innocently, "You mean they haven't given themselves away yet?  Oh dear, I hate to so spoil a surprise."  His gaze drifted to where Dori was stiff as a rod and Bofur was gaping at him.

"You're mad to think such a lie would get a rise out of me," Thorin said, much more panicked at the moment of the thought of his nephews running into Smaug on their own without him.

"Of course, my mistake.  Regardless, wish them well," he smiled a sharp smile that was all teeth and slipped into the gambling den. Thorin watched him go, the line of his shoulders tense before daring to look back at Bofur and Dori.

Bofur snapped his mouth shut and looked away.  Dori was pale as he looked to Thorin, "That's a serious accusation, even if it is a lie."

Letting out a long breath, Thorin just shook his head rather than shake Dori for saying something so obvious that only kicked his panic onto a higher level. "It's a lie," he almost growled, stalking forward.

Dori opened his mouth, but Bofur murmured a quiet, "Let it alone." It earned him a sharp look, but Dori remained silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VS has been getting the feeling she's been forgetting something all break and lo and behold, she forgot to update stories.


	16. Not Ready to Deal with Ereborians

Eomer paused on the sidewalk outside the restaurant where Eowyn and Faramir had agreed to meet.  He turned to look at his sister, catching sight of a cafe across the street that would afford him a decent vantage spot, "Shall I come back to pick you up or is he walking you home?"

She looked up at him, arching one brow. "I am not sure, but I'm certain I understand well enough how to use the bus system if it comes down to that."

"Well, of course you do.  I just wanted to make sure I had some idea," Eomer offered in his defense.

"If I find him trustworthy enough, I'll be sure to ask him to walk me home," she said, shaking her head slightly. "Must you worry so?"

"It's my job to worry about you, though," her brother answered with a faint smile.

"If you insist that it is," she said, glancing warily at the coffee shop as if fully expecting him to end up there.

"Well, I should let you get in to your date, then," he said.  "I'll see you later, sister."

"Try not to worry yourself too much," she said, shaking her head, stubbornly long hair pulled back into a braid.

Her brother shook his head at her, "I'll try.  Now get going, you."

Shaking her head again she graced him with a faint smile before crossing the street and entering the restaurant, looking around.

Eomer watched his sister go before turning and entering the cafe directly across from the restaurant.

Faramir rose from where he was seated, having seen her come in.  He offered her a smile and a half wave. Inclining her head, she approached and slid into the seat across from him, scanning the restaurant quickly before focusing her attention on him. "I still have to say this invitation was somewhat unexpected."

He settled back into his chair, considering that, "I suppose it would be.  I didn't really mean for it to be, though."

"And what did you mean it to be then?"

"Well, perhaps a bit more expected.  I just...it honestly took me longer to talk to you than I wanted it to."

"Why did it take so long?" she asked, frowning slightly as she considered him.

Faramir paused before answering, "Because I have a tendency to over think things."

"I can admit that is not something I have all that much familiarity with," she said after a pause.

"It usually means I take longer to act than I should," he admitted quietly.

"Does that tendency at least keep you out of trouble?" she asked, scanning the room again, not sure whether it pleased her or made her feel more on edge.

Faramir smiled wryly at that, "Mostly.  There are some people it gets me into more trouble with, frankly."  A waiter finally approached them to see if there was anything they wanted to drink.

Requesting water, Eowyn watched to see what Faramir might order. Faramir echoed the order, never inclined toward much more than that when he went out.

That earned a faint smile. "That's rather Spartan of you."

"Says the lady who ordered the same thing," he returned with a ghost of a smile.

"My family lives a relatively Spartan life," she shrugged. "We rarely have the time, inclination, or money for more. It's not common though."

"I've never been one to go for anything more," Faramir responded.  "I've never gotten the taste for sweet drinks, and it's a bit late for coffee."  He'd never dared order anything but water on the few occasions his father had deigned to take both himself and Boromir out for dinner.

"Do you go out often?" she asked, fingers tapping on the side of the table.

He shook his head slightly, "Not often.  Boromir and I mostly eat in.  But we do go out from time to time."

Eowyn tilted her head, blonde braid falling over one shoulder at the mention of only him and his brother. "At school, you and your brother don't always seem terribly close," she said, testing.

He met her eyes, a slight tensing of his shoulders the only indication that he realized his slip, "We spend a lot of time together outside of school, and he has his own circle of friends there."

That earned another tiny smile. "That is good. I can hardly avoid my brother at school or at home, even if I wished to."

"You get along well with your brother then?"  Faramir hazarded.

"When he's not being over bearing or irritating," she agreed. "Which, is always actually. So perhaps I should instead say I get along with him in spite of that. The last few years have brought us closer too."

Faramir managed a faint smile, "Boromir insists that over-bearing, over-protective, and relatively irritating actions are part of an older brother's rights."

She paused a beat. "I'm surprised they don't get along better. Or rather, that they haven't tried getting along better with that sort of a mutual attitude."

"I think it's just a matter of not really having any reason to," Faramir offered with a shrug.

"Likely," she agreed, leafing through the menu and frowning slightly.

He skimmed the menu, considering for a long moment and finally going with his instincts and settling on one of the lower priced entrees.  Glancing at her he set the menu down, "Everything alright?"

"Why would it not be?" she asked, looking up.

"Your expression?" he offered in response.

"It just seems like it's been a long time since I was at a restaurant," she said after a pause.

"When was the last time, if I may?"

"The last time my uncle won a case probably," she said, tilting the menu. "And Theodred wasn't in the hospital. A year, perhaps."

He had nearly forgotten she had a cousin and he felt slightly guilty for that, "How is Theodred doing?"

"As well as he ever could be," Eowyn said with a sigh. "I believe Eomer and I will visit him again tomorrow."

"And your uncle?" he asked quietly after another moment.

"Will be preparing for his case on Monday," she said. "Were you asking how he's doing or if he would be joining us?"

"Either?  Mostly how he's doing."

"He's tired," she said, finally settling on something on the menu. "Forgetting to eat again, things such as that. But he's fine."

Faramir nodded very slightly, "And you're doing alright?"

"There is nothing for me to complain of," she said after a moment's consideration. "At least, nothing new, or nothing that could be easily changed. But enough of that, I'm curious to know more about you."

He offered her a faint smile, that he hoped didn't look shaky, at that, "Ask away, I'm never sure how to tell people about myself until they ask."

"Well," Eowyn paused, considering the slender teen in front of her. "You said you're close to your brother? I've never heard of any other family though."

"The only other family we have is my father," Faramir answered, his tone even and his voice steady.  "Boromir and I have always been close because of that."

"But you aren't close to your father?"

He dropped his gaze, fiddling with his spoon as he shook his head, "No.  Not especially."

Deciding that was as far as she wanted to press that subject, she shook her head. "I'm sorry. So what do you do then, in what time you have?"

He rolled his shoulder, looking up at her again, "I work.  I wait tables at a restaurant on the weekends and keep track of the owner's books the rest of the time."

"Just work?" she asked, though her smile was slightly warmer.

He offered a bit of a smile in response, "Mostly, yeah.  I don't get out much."

"Though you're out now," she remarked. "So, would you rather be a waiter or an accountant later on?"

"An accountant, by far.  Waiting's nice, but it's not a steady wage," Faramir admitted, with a rueful smile.  "I'm also better with figures than with people, usually."

"It's a good skill to have. It must be nice," she started and cut off with a tiny shake of her head. "Where do you work?"

"Gandalf's, it's a fair sized establishment all told," he replied, glancing up as the waiter returned to take their orders.

Ordering something small herself, she still couldn't help but arch a brow at what he ordered. He handed the menus to the waiter and waited until the man left before he looked back to her, "Yes?"

She shook her head again. "So, you work at a restaurant, you prefer accounting to waiting, you're close to your brother but not your father, and I know you like books."

He smiled faintly at that, "There really isn't much more to me than that."

"There's almost always more to someone than that," she protested quietly.

Faramir paused as he considered what else he could tell her before he shook his head, "Not always. Sometimes there's nothing more than a younger son who works to help pay the rent on a small apartment."

She frowned then. "Why did you ask me to dinner?"

"Because I like you," he finally answered.  "And I wanted to get to know you."

She hesitated. "Then what would you know of me? For I still do not believe that is all of who you are."

"I would know what you like.  What makes you smile.  I know that you like your brother in spite of the fact that he can be over-bearing, and from the way you speak of them you care much for your uncle and cousin.  But I know little of you," Faramir answered after another moment.

"I tend to keep to myself," she said after a moment. "Much like you seem to." She seemed to consider, looking around the room again before focusing back on him. "For what makes me smile? When my cousin gets better enough to come home, for however much time that may be. When I see the sun rise and a new day arrive. Or when people are kind to each other. But I could not tell you more than that."

He listened attentively, mulling over what she said, "Is your cousin able to come home much?"

"On and off," she said. "There are good months and then some bad ones. But with my parents gone, and my uncle having lost his wife years ago, we're all on edge. I can't," she looked down. "I'd rather not lose anyone else out of our family."

Faramir resisted the urge to reach across the table to cover her hand, "Do they know why he's sickly so much of the time?"

She nodded slightly. "But there's not much to be done."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he spoke honestly, genuinely, though he still felt the words rang empty.

"As is everyone," she said softly. "But thank you." He nodded very slightly, not entirely sure how to respond to that. "It's fine," she said, hands dropping to her lap.

Faramir didn't outright say that it evidently wasn't, instead leaning back slightly and seeking another subject, "Did your test go well earlier this week?"  He managed not to grimace at how much of a change that was.

Arching her brow, she smiled faintly. "Well, I think. I suppose if you want to be an accountant, numbers must make some sense to you."

That earned a quirk of his lips, "Some sense, yes.  It's easiest when I have the number I'm working toward to check against, but they tend to fall into place."

She shook her head slightly. "I'd be jealous of that sense. I'm better with words than numbers."

"What form of words?  Spoken or written?"

"Written or rehearsed more so than spoken," she replied. "Though perhaps that should have been obvious enough."

He smiled very faintly at that, "Perhaps.  Do you have a favorite type of book?"

She paused. "While I think about that, I turn the question back on you. You're more known for reading after all."

That earned a more genuine smile, "Now that's hardly fair.  I...I think I would have to say I prefer books that deal with, well real life, but only if there's some note of hope in the narrative."

"You don't often find those in history books," she remarked.

"No, unfortunately.  I'll read histories, but I suppose I should have been more specific.  I meant form of fiction--I don't care for extraordinary tales, but I also don't mind fiction.  It's a form of escape I suppose," he admitted before he thought about it.

"Which it seems like everyone needs from time to time," she said. "Do you have a favorite then?"

"Not Thomas Hardy?"  he offered, unwilling to admit his favorite author even though he strongly doubted he would receive ridicule from Eowyn for it.

She blinked once, smile twitching up the corners of her mouth. "He does seem to take a particularly bleak view of society and the world."

"He does, and although I can understand the commentaries he's making I find myself avoiding them because of how bleak they can be."  He paused, "What of you?  What do you like to read?"

"You'll laugh when I say law books," she said. "Though like may not be entirely the correct word. Shakespeare, when I have the time and inclination."

Faramir tilted his head slightly, "I'm not laughing, though I am curious.  It's not often people say 'law books' when asked that."

"It's not considered very womanly," she said, idly turning her fork over.

"We're living in 1928," Faramir replied.  "There's been a woman in the House, and in the Senate--temporary as that may have been, and two in the position of state governor a handful of years ago."

"Or Mabel Walker Willebrandt and Annette Abbott Adams, both women having been the Assistant Attorney General this decade?" she offered. "And yet, it is still not considered feminine and there are those who believe I should turn my attention to other pursuits."

"Is law something you genuinely wish to pursue?" Faramir asked, studying her.

She nodded. "Yes. For even though I've seen how hard it can be, it can do so much good too. And yet everyone has an opinion about how I should rather focus on family, and cooking, and being a better woman than that."

"But that's not what you want to do," he protested.

"No," she agreed, shaking her head. "I would hate to be put into such a cage. I want to be useful, and change people's lives."

He offered her a bit of a smile at that, "I'll bet you will, too."

"Thank you," she said, eyes widening in surprise. "Not many react that way."

"You're welcome, but frankly they should.  You'd be very good at it, and you evidently want to."

She hesitated, looking closely at his face before smiling again. "It's why I like reading Shakespeare. I hope to learn from his speeches."

"Which is your favorite of his?"  Faramir asked after another moment.

"King Lear, or Hamlet," she said with a tiny shrug."But neither are particularly hopeful, I have to admit."

"Well, I look forward to seeing you prove the doubters wrong," he murmured as the waiter appeared with their meals.

That almost startled a full laugh from her. "Providing of course you'd be around to do so."

"I'd like to be," he answered before he thought better of it.

"Then we'll have to see," she said with a warmer smile.

w-w-w

Entering the coffee shop, Boromir slide into a seat by the window, looking across the street where he could vaguely see Eowyn and Faramir talking.

Eomer turned from where he'd been visiting with the person behind the counter.  He offered them another smile before excusing himself and taking his drink over to Boromir's table, "Stalking your brother's date?"

Glancing up sideways, Boromir's brows lifted. "Says the man doing the exact same thing?"

"Well of course," Eomer answered easily.  "Mind if I join you?  You seem to have the best vantage spot in relation to their table."

Brows still arched,  Boromir gestured across the table. "Take a seat if you like."

The other settled into the chair opposite, "So, do you often stalk your brother's dates?"

"You're assuming he has those," Boromir drawled in reply. "What about you? Your sister looks like the type to give you a black eye for stalking her's."

"I'm hoping to beat her home so she doesn't know," Eomer admitted.  "Though in all likelihood that won't work."

"I look forward to your black eye on Monday," Boromir said, lifting his cup in a mock salute.

"I'd say I look forward to your matching one, but I'm not sure I've seen evidence that your brother has that much of a fight in him," Eomer spoke, not meaning it to be any form of insult simly an observation.

"Well," Boromir considered. "He wouldn't punch me in the face, and he couldn't poison me because I cook, but I expect life to get uncomfortable in odd and unexpected ways."

Eomer sipped at his coffee, "Creative in his reactions then?"

"He's the generally inventive sort," Boromir agreed. "Comes from reading so much I think. If nothing else, conversations will become much more snide."

That earned a faint laugh, "Oh that sounds like a delight."

Boromir laughed, shaking his head slightly. "I'd rather he be snide than silent and moody."

"Does he get silent and moody?"

"When the mood strikes him," Boromir said, not inclined to elaborate on what would cause such a mood or how often it happened when they were living under their father's roof.

Eomer considered that for a moment before nodding and looking across the street to where their siblings were, "Do I want to know how long it took him to ask her to dinner?"

"You really probably don't," Boromir shook his head. "It was a bit excruciating though."

Shaking his head, the other teen glanced at him, "Your brother's a quiet one, isn't he?"

"To most people," Boromir said. "Your sister's not really known to be verbose to most though, either."

"That would be because she keeps finding that every time she offers an opinion it's not 'ladylike'."

Boromir blinked once. "That's a term people still use?"

"You have no idea," Eomer groaned.  "Yes.  Yes it is still a word people use.  It is still a word people use to _Eowyn_.  People seem to want her to settle down and cook and clean and have lots of children.  They expect this of _Eowyn_."

"I'm surprised the entire school doesn't walk around with a black eye," Boromir mused. "Though, I suppose that would be beyond un-ladylike."

"It would also cause our uncle more distress than need be if he were to receive that particular call," Eomer responded, turning his attention back to the window again.

"Then I applaud her restraint," Boromir said, raising his cup again in a small salute.

Eomer chuckled slightly at that, "Indeed.  It is admirable."

"If only more had that restraint," Boromir muttered into the cup before he set it down again, turning it around a few times. "So, my brother's quiet and your sister is unladylike. So far they seem well suited," he said, watching them rather than Eomer.

Taking another drink of his coffee, Eomer nodded slightly, "Though will he have the backbone to keep up with her?"

"He does have one you know, for all that he looks like a fuzzy bunny."

"I've yet to see it," Eomer reminded.  "And therefore I can't buy the bunny comparison as I have met some vicious rabbits."

"You clearly don't understand my brother then," Boromir replied mildly.

His brows rising, Eomer shook his head, "No I don't.  And I find no shame in admitting it either."

"I'll let you off the hook in that he's pretty hard to figure out without knowing him since he was born," Boromir said, not adding that even their father failed to understand his son in all that time. "But I can promise you that a perceived lack of spine is not going to be what stops him from keeping up with your sister."

"Then what is?" Eomer asked seriously.

"I don't rightly know yet," Boromir said. "Disapproval, maybe. Let me ask you something though. Do you think your sister actually wants a relationship or is she just humoring him?"

“I think she's confused by him," Eomer answered.  "Beyond that I couldn't say.  But Eowyn doesn't do things to just 'humor' people.  It's not in her nature.  If she didn't want to have dinner with him tonight she would have said so."

"Good," he said, nodding. "That at least I'm glad of. The fastest thing likely to send him running is his own insecurities."

"What does he want from my sister?"  Eomer finally asked directly, his gaze moving to watch the couple in the restaurant opposite.

"Want is probably the wrong way of saying it," he said, taking another sip of coffee, ignoring the late hour. "He likes her, I think he'd like to get to know her and possibly down the road do the proper romance thing. I don’t' think he expects it though."

Eomer glanced at the other young man, "I'm assuming that goes back to those insecurities you mentioned?"

Boromir inclined his head. "Good guess."

"Well, maybe they'll surprise themselves regarding that 'romance thing'."

"I, personally, remain in hope of that," Boromir said, looking back through the window and drinking his coffee with the facade of serenity.

Eomer paused at that, savoring his drink for a few minutes before speaking again, his eyes focused out the window, "We've done rather a lot of talking about them.  I still haven't thanked you, or snarled at you, about delaying me on Tuesday yet."

"I could try to blame Aragorn for that," Boromir replied. "But would you rather thank me or snarl?"

"I'm not actually sure.  And Aragorn had a vested interest in giving your brother time to ask Eowyn on a date?"  Eomer sounded skeptical, not turning his attention from the window.

Boromir considered. "Maybe he just really wanted to talk to you in that moment and I egged him on? Besides, he likes Faramir."

Eomer still looked skeptical but he shrugged slightly, "Maybe so.  Somehow I doubt it.  I'll thank you because she looks happy at the moment, but I'm still not happy about the fact that it was more than a little underhanded."

"I'm somewhat more underhanded than my brother," Boromir said with a shrug. "To get what I want, anyway. And it was only because you scared him."

"I scared him and he managed to ask Eowyn to dinner?"  Eomer's brows rose and he glanced briefly at Boromir.

Boromir laughed. "You have to remember he managed that only after staring longingly for ages and much urging. Dealing with you on top of that? It just wasn't going to happen."

Chuckling dryly, Eomer nodded, "I suppose I can grant him that.  What finally convinced him to ask her?"

"Ori, his other friend, actually," Boromir sighed. "It's nice to know I'm not enough but having two of us gang up on him seemed to do the job."

"It's something to do with being an older sibling.  They need to hear it from someone else too before they fully buy whatever it is we're saying," Eomer assured.

Boromir couldn't help but sigh again. "If you say so."

"People around school are under the mistaken impression you two aren't all that close," came the off-hand comment.

"Well, it's mistaken," Boromir said. "But they can frankly think whatever they want." It mostly came down to the fact that both Boromir and Faramir were private about their affections than any great plan on their part to fool their class mates.

Eomer smiled faintly at that, glancing at Boromir again, "Especially since what matters is that they're wrong.  You're the sort who'd give anything for him, aren't you?"

Boromir considered him for a very long moment. "You say that like I already haven't," he said quietly, admitting more than he usually would and not entirely sure why he was doing so.

That earned the other's full attention, something in Boromir's tone catching Eomer by surprise.  He spoke mutedly, "Do you ever regret it?"

"It?" Boromir asked, fairly certain Eomer wouldn't actually know what he was referring to. "Some days," he admitted. "But most days it's beyond worth it."

Eomer drew a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he nodded very slightly.  He fell silent, feeling like he'd tread to close to something that was none of his business.

"It's done though," he said, shaking his head and pushing his father's betrayed face when they'd won the court case out of his mind. Denethor still could not understand that Boromir would have moved out for their own good on his own, sure Faramir had been behind the whole thing. Most days Boromir couldn't comprehend how he loved both his brother and father. "And it's better for what happened. So never mind it."

Nodding once more, Eomer shifted subjects rather abruptly, "What do you do?  Outside of school I mean."

"Work," he said. "And work. Pester my brother and cook. And on rare occasions, go to the cinema."

That earned a bit of a smile, "The cinema?"

"It's popular isn't it?" Boromir arched a brow.

"Well, yes.  Any films you've been able to see recently?"

"Not really," Boromir said, shaking his head. "You sounded pretty surprised though."

Eomer rolled a shoulder, "I honestly tend to forget it's an option.  I know it's there, and I know it's popular, I just get caught up enough that I forget about it."

"So what do you do then?" Boromir asked, considering his empty cup with an unhappy expression.

"Radio, some pulps, and the occasional dime novel, that's when I have time," Eomer replied, setting his own cup aside.

Boromir chuckled. "More words than I usually like, personally. Though there are some, well not good, but entertaining dime novels to be found."

Eomer chuckled at that, "Well, the pulps have a lot of pictures, and when I say the occasional dime novel I mean a handful a year."

"So long as there are pictures," Boromir said with a shrug, still glaring at the cup.

"You could get another, you know," Eomer remarked, watching him bemusedly.

"Faramir has a sixth sense of figuring out when I've had more than one cup of coffee," Boromir replied. "So it depends on if I want to sleep before work or not tomorrow."

That earned an understanding nod, "Where do you work?"

He made a dismissive gesture and an unhappy sound. "No where I like."

"Where would you like to work, then?"

"Anywhere else?" he offered. "Something with food might not be bad."

Eomer considered that, "That could be enjoyable."

"Better than working with morons and boxes," Boromir said and glanced out the window, brows rising. "If you want to beat your sister home, you should go, they're getting the check."

Eomer stood abruptly at that, "So they are.  It was good to talk to you, Boromir.  I'll see you at school?"

"Yeah, I'll be around," Boromir said, offering him a smile and wave.

Touching his brow and returning the smile, Eomer slipped out to catch the next bus and hope that he would be home and looking settled before Eowyn got in.

Once the check was paid, Faramir rose, offering Eowyn a faint smile, "May I see you home?"

"That would probably be wise," she said, rising and pushing her braid back over her shoulder. "If you would like to."

"I would," he nodded, pulling his coat on as they started for the door.

"Then thank you," she said, knowing better than to trust the streets alone at this hour.

 He opened the door for her and inclined his head, "It's no trouble."  Faramir paused outside when he caught sight of a familiar figure across the street.

Still sitting in the cafe, Boromir offered his brother a cheery wave, Eowyn arching a brow. Faramir shook his head, "And that's Boromir for you."

"He seems rather pleased with himself," she remarked, returning a sedate wave.

"He's probably found out something or other.  I'll try and figure out what later," he replied as they started toward Eowyn's home.

"I can almost promise you Eomer was there," she said, eying the cafe with a dark look.

That garnered a faint laugh as they started down the street, "Well, I suppose it shows they care."

She huffed out a breath. "If that's what you want to call it."

"I'm willing to give them the benefit of the doubt in this situation."

"Which you may do so," she agreed after a moment.

Faramir offered her a bit of a smile at that as he walked her home.

w-w-w

Ori slide downstairs, a bundle of yarn in his arms for his final project. He was trying to combine crochet and knitting into something that might please the teacher and didn't feel like he was succeeding at anything he attempted. Seeing Bifur sitting and carving, Ori clattered over, sitting on the floor next to him.

Bifur grunted in a greeting, going back to his carving and for a while they sat in silence together, working on their projects.

"Bifur," Ori said after a while and the elder glanced down at him. "You're not--annoyed or angry or other wise disapproving of me and Bofur, are you?"

Snorting, Bifur shook his head, making a few motions to express how hard he'd been trying to get them to figure it out.

"That carving," Ori said, eying the block of wood now in Bifur's hands. "The one that caused such a stirr. You did that one, didn't you?" Bifur's grin was answer enough and for a while they went back to their projects, Ori snarling quietly at his yarn and Bifur looking meditative from where he was carving and watching the door.

After a while, Bifur tapped Ori's shoulder, causing the other to look up, startled from scowling at the yarn he held. Ori frowned when Bifur handed down a small carving, a rough outline of a willowy young woman, her face carved with caring attention. For a moment Ori just considered it, unsure what to make of it before looking back at Bifur's face, seeing the sorrow and affection still there.

"Bifur," Ori said, carefully handling the carving and considering it. "Did you love her once?" When Bifur nodded he swallowed. "I hadn't known you had a lady love."

When Bifur's expression shuttered slightly, Ori let out a careful breath. "Did she die?" Bifur nodded again, looking at the carving Ori was still holding reverently. "In the war?" Ori continued, looking at the scars on Bifur's forehead from the shrapnel. When Bifur nodded again Ori dropped his gaze back to the carving.

"Thank you for showing me this," he said softly, handing it back and Bifur accepted it, continuing to flick away at her skirt. It was the most simple and beautiful carving Bifur had done in a while, the memory of her face driving out his more macabre tendencies.

Once Bifur's attention was back on the carving Ori frowned at his tangle of yarn, thinking about the love and affection still hidden in Bifur and the blanket he had made for Bofur that had burned down with the building. With a new idea he unraveled everything he had and started over.

w-w-w

Frodo pounded the heel of his hand against the door to the room Merry and Pippin were sharing.  The shirelings had all moved into the three bedroom apartment on the sixth floor of Thorin's building on Saturday, Sam and Frodo had taken one room, Merry and Pippin the second, and Bilbo had laid claim to the master.  "Come on you two, we don't want to be late."

Pippin poked a sleepy head out of the room. "But what if we do want to be late? I have no interest in American schools, no matter how glamorous the cinema makes them."

Merry was still in bed, his pillow over his head and Frodo offered Pippin a long look before pushing the door a bit further open and crossing to Merry's bed, pulling the pillow away, "We're going regardless.  Wouldn't do to be late on the first day we're there."

Merry growled at him and burrowed further under his blankets, "We're on holiday.  I thought we told Bilbo that when we arrived."

"He did rather miss that," Pippin sighed, patting at his hair as if that would tame any of it.

"Stay in bed any longer, Merry, and you won't have time for breakfast," Frodo warned as he left, dropping the pillow near the door and far out of his cousin's reach.

Merry grumbled again, finally sitting up and glaring at the door Frodo had just exited through, "No one should be that alert at this hour."

Pippin decided against telling Merry he was perfectly alert, he just wanted to lay around and pester Bilbo rather than go to school. "Come now, Merry, you want breakfast don't you?"

His cousin grimaced, but nodded as he got up and pulled out the clothes he wanted to wear that day, "I'm all for breakfast, I'm just not thrilled with getting up to go to school.  We just finished for the holidays back home, after all."

"Well," Pippin said after a pause. "It should be an adventure to meet new people at the very least."

"Let me wake up and get a bit of food in me and then I will look forward to that promising adventure, Pip," Merry promised.

"Good," Pippin chirped, already scampering into the dining room to see if Bilbo was cooking yet.

Bilbo looked up from where he was in process on pancakes as a half-hearted apology for sending them promptly back to school, "Morning, Pippin."

"Good morning," Pippin said, curls still wild. "Merry is unhappy to be awake, you should probably let him have an extra pancake."

"You should probably comb your hair before you go," Bilbo responded, but made certain he had enough batter to allow an extra pancake.

Pippin made a vague agreeing sound, entirely planning to forgo that except Sam shoved a brush into his hands and then he really had to actually do something with it.

Frodo stepped past Bilbo to fetch dishes from the cupboards to set the table, "What time do we need to be out of here?"

"I was told that Kili and Gimli usually leave in about half an hour, it should give you just enough time to eat," the eldest cousin answered.

"And you won't get bored without us here?"

"I have papers to write, Frodo.  I will be more than occupied with you all at school."

"Not to mention whoever else is around," Pippin added. "Like, Fili, or that man Thorin who seems to always be around."

Merry entered at that moment, trying to tame his bedhead and starting to decide that it wasn't worth it, "Trying to figure out how Bilbo will keep busy?"

"Something like that," Frodo answered.

"He seems to have definite favorite neighbors is all," Pippin said, handing him the brush.

Taking the brush, Merry started dragging it haphazardly through his curls, "That's one way of putting it."

"I just happen to know them better than most of the others," Bilbo protested, dishing up the pancakes and setting the plates on the table along with some syrup, butter, and fruit preserves.

"If you say so," Pippin said, Sam eating already quite happily.

"I do say so," Bilbo responded, sitting down.

"Have you tried to get to know any of the others better?"  Merry asked, watching Bilbo's reaction carefully.

All he got for his trouble was an unimpressed look and a shrug, "I haven't had the time yet."

"I don't think Dwalin is interested in being friends with anyone except Sam," Pippin said. "And that's less friends, more sitting together and judging everyone else."

Sam sputtered something and shook his head.

Bilbo laughed slightly at that, "That's probably a fair assessment.  Dwalin's not one to care much for outsiders."

"Dori strikes me as being scary, but the brood downstairs is quite nice," Pippin said, having already been adopted by several of Bombur's children.

"Dori may be scary, but his brother Ori seems nice enough," Frodo offered.

"He looks cuddly," Pippin agreed.

"I think it's all the knitwear," Merry supplied between bites.

Bilbo shook his head slightly, not entirely what he thought about this round of gossip about their new neighbors, "Ori's quite the kind-hearted young man from what interactions I've had with him."

"And the knit wear," Pippin agreed.

Frodo finished his breakfast, setting his plate by the sink, "He's rather quiet."

"Who, Ori?" Pippin asked, looking over.

Frodo nodded, "Yes, him."

"I think it comes from the cuddly bit," Pippin shrugged. "Though, the other's here are quite loud."

"And it's not like you're all that loud yourself, Frodo," Merry supplied.  "But Pippin's right, most of the others more than make up for how quiet Ori can be."

Satisfied finally with the amount of food in his belly and how combed his hair was going to be, Pippin started bouncing around the apartment again, eager to set off even though the others were still less enthused.

Frodo disappeared back into his room to find a notebook and grab his coat even as Merry finally decided that he might as well get it over with and rose from the table to find his own coat, "We'd probably better head downstairs."

"Are you walking us there or are we just following Kili and Gimli?" Pippin asked, Sam muttering something and finding his own coat.

Bilbo glanced toward his youngest cousin, "I can walk you if you would like, but I was just sending you with Kili and Gimli, honestly." Sam made a face but Pippin nodded, perfectly happy with that arrangement.

Merry emerged from the third bedroom and handed Pippin his coat and gloves, "We're going to freeze, and it's going to be your fault, Bilbo.  For making us go to school in New York in December."

"I'll find some way to forgive myself," Bilbo answered, thinking that they were far more likely to sustain damage for reasons entirely unrelated to the weather.

Pippin made a face first at Merry and then at Bilbo before pulling on the gloves and bounding down the stairs.

Merry hurried after him, deciding it was better to make sure Pippin was alright rather than wait upstairs for Frodo and Sam.  They reached the lobby to find Gimli there already waiting for Kili.  The Ereborian teen blinked at the two Shirelings, "You're going out?"

That earned a grimace from Merry, "Actually apparently we're joining you at school."

"Bilbo's orders," Pippin said, grinning widely and Kili stopped at the top of the stairs, looking alarmed for a minute before Fili hurried him along.

Frodo and Sam came down the stairs a minute or so later, Gimli looking in their direction. "Bilbo's sending you all to school?  Didn't you just get here for vacation or something?"

The dark-haired Shireling nodded, "We did, but he's got papers to write and exams to study for and apparently thought this would be a good plan."

"I think he just wants other people to deal with us," Pippin declared, perfectly content with that. "And he's muttered something about not allowing us near his work."

Gimli's brows rose at that, "Well, if we're all here we're set to go then.  Might as well, if you lot are joining us."

"It's exciting, isn't it?" Pippin asked brightly, and Kili looked at Fili as if asking for him to give him strength but Fili was too busy laughing at him.

Merry couldn't help but finally smile at his cousin, "That's one way of putting it, Pip."

"I'm sure we'll meet lots of new, interesting people," Pippin said and Sam looked distinctly unhappy at the prospect. "Oh cheer up Sam!" Pippin cried. "I'm sure you're signed up for an English class and will get to read lots of poetry you wouldn't have found at the Shire."

At that prospect, Sam's face lightened.

"English class is mandatory, after all," Gimli muttered as they headed out.

"See?" Pippin said and Sam shrugged, just glad he was Frodo's age and hopefully in classes with him and not Merry and Pippin.

They reached the school in relatively short order, Gimli braking away from the group as soon as they were there to see if he might actually get the chance to talk to Legolas that day.  The blond had avoided him for the whole of the previous week and he was sick of it.

Kili looked after him and sighed. "I'm not even asking," Fili said, brushing a hand over Kili's back before continuing to the college campus for classes.

Eyes wide, Pippin looked around the bustling hallways, no used to seeing so many people that weren't related to each other in such concentrated numbers.

Merry rocked back on his heels, "We're supposed to be able to find classrooms in this place?"

"That's the plan. We should ask for directions," Pippin said, nodding his head firmly.

His cousin glanced at him, but nodded, "Not a bad plan, but who do we ask?"

"What about him?" Pippin asked, zoning in on Boromir, who was approaching with Faramir, having both just arrived on campus.

Merry considered him for a moment and then nodded, "I think that's a good choice, yeah."

"Excuse me," Pippin said, flying into the brother's path and failing his arms, startling Boromir.

Faramir came to an abrupt stop, blinking down at the younger teen as Merry came up next to Pippin, "Morning."

"Yes," Boromir said in confusion. "Good morning."

"You look like an upstanding student," Pippin said and Boromir's brows went up, wondering how on earth he'd managed something like that.

Merry offered the brothers a grin, "Both of you, actually.  But we're, well a bit turned around."

"Who are you?" Boromir asked, still confused.

"Oh! We're new here," Pippin said. "And, um, it's rather large is all."

"I'm Merry, this is Pippin," the older of the two offered.

Faramir hid a smile, "Where are you from?"

"Oh! The Shire, it's a lovely place, lots of rolling green hills and sheep," Pippin said and Boromir blinked again, as that description sounded very far away from where they were. "We were sent to visit with our cousin and apparently the four of us were just too much for him to handle, poor chap, so he's cruelly sent us off to school."

Trying not to laugh, Boromir nodded, expression as serious as Pippin's as the younger looked up as if imploring them to agree that their cousin was cruel for not being able to handle them.

That finally earned a laugh from Faramir, "You know, I know someone who hails from the Shire if I remember right."

"Well, I think there's only the five of us," Merry responded.  "So how do you know Bilbo?"

Faramir blinked at him, but smiled faintly, "We work at the same restaurant."

"Oooh," Pippin's eyes widened. "He's banned us from there. Says the owner is not proper company."

"Should I be worried?" Boromir asked, looking sideways at Faramir.

Faramir glanced at his brother and shook his head, "No, you shouldn't be.  And you can't pull me out of there, Gandalf wouldn't have any idea what to do with his books if I left."

"You're right," Boromir nodded. "They'd probably combust the moment you quit out of sheer fear."

"It's quite exciting that you know Bilbo," Pippin said.

"I don't know him very well," Faramir admitted.  "And I don't recall him mentioning you were coming."

Merry grinned at that, "Well, that would be because we surprised him."

Boromir looked the two in front of him over again and tried not to laugh. "I'm sure that was a surprise of the most shocking degree. Has his heart recovered yet do you think?"

"I don't know," Pippin said with a tiny frown. "Though I think the other man there was even more annoyed."

Faramir blinked at that, "Other man?"

"He said he was a friend who had come to help Bilbo move some things around," Merry supplied.

"Who we promptly moved in with," Pippin added and Boromir looked alarmed for a minute before shaking his head slightly. "Well, his building, so far as I can determine. Anyway! We have no idea where our classes are supposed to be!"

"Well, do you have your class lists?"  Faramir asked, deciding it was better not to ask about the moving in comment.

For a moment Pippin frowned, trying to remember where he might have left such a thing before his eyes widened and he produced it with a flourish. Faramir took it, glancing at Merry who relinquished his as well, "It looks like the two of you have mostly the same classes." God help the teachers.  "None of them are all that far from each other either.  Well, except for the science."

"Well that's good," Pippin said, relief on his face, especially at not being separated from Merry for much of the day.

"We've got time before classes, so it shouldn’t be any trouble to show you the way," Faramir offered.

A voice came from their left as Eomer approached, "Morning, Boromir, Faramir."

Boromir's brows twitched before he turned, not used to being greeted by Eomer. "And a good morning to you."

Faramir startled, blinking at Eowyn's brother for a long moment before offering a quiet "good morning" in response.  Eomer offered them both a bit of a smile, "Did you have a good weekend?"

"Quite," Boromir said. "I see your sister didn't give you a black eye."

Faramir offered his brother a confused look at that and Eomer shook his head, "No, she didn't black my eye. She also wasn't so surprised that I'd been there."

Recognition dawned in Faramir's expression, "You were in the cafe watching us too, weren't you?"

Eomer offered a smile at that, "I was in fact."

"You know Eowyn can take care of herself," the younger teen offered with an unimpressed look.

That earned a blink and Eomer glanced at Boromir, "Maybe you were right in the 'bunny' description."

"Of course he was in the cafe, we could start an over protective older brothers anonymous," Boromir said, glaring slightly at Eomer for bringing up the comment about Faramir being a bunny. "I told you he had a spine you know."

"So you did," Eomer agreed readily.

Faramir eyed his brother and frowned, "'Bunny'?"

"I was trying to assure him you were not likely to harm anyone but he didn't believe you had enough of a spine," Boromir said with a tiny shrug.

Faramir still didn't look pleased, "So you called me a bunny?"

"You... are rather warm and kind?" Boromir offered.

His brother offered him an exasperated look, but shook his head, "I still can't believe you compared me to a rabbit."

"At least he bought the bunny because god knows where I would have gone with it next," Boromir said, shaking his head and Pippin tried to stifle his laugher rather than offend Faramir, who he'd just met.

Faramir finally smiled faintly at that, glancing at Merry who was biting his lip to keep from grinning, "Probably a sheep."

Eomer spoke at the same time, "Technically I didn't buy it, we just changed the subject."

"Yes, but now you buy it, so we won't have to return to the topic."

"A fair point," Eomer replied with a smile.

"So, everything worked out," Boromir declared. "They had a nice date, we fulfilled our brotherly duties on spying on said date and I got coffee."

"I would say, all in all, it was a good way to spend Friday night," Eomer nodded.

Faramir paused at that, "Spying on Eowyn and my date and getting coffee together was a good way to spend Friday night?"

Stopping, Boromir frowned, wanting to say it certainly was but something in his brother's tone stopping him. Before he could settle on an answer, Pippin best him too it. "Well, I think it sounds splendid," he said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Do you think you'll be doing it again?" and Boromir choked on air.

That startled a laugh out of Eomer as he finally turned his attention from Boromir and Faramir, "Splendid indeed.  And who might you be?"

"I'm Pippin and this is my cousin Merry," Pippin said, eyes bright at he looked up. "And we're terribly lost and they were being kind enough to show us our class rooms."

"Oh, and I'm keeping you from that, I'm sorry," Eomer responded starting to take a step back.

Merry grinned, "No, that's fine. There's still time, isn't there?"

"There's time, especially since they're so close to my first class," Boromir said.

Eomer paused at that, but nodded slightly, "Well, I was needing to talk to my teacher before class today, so I should be on my way.  It was good to see you all."

"And well to see you," Boromir said, smiling as he braced his hands on his hips. "I'm glad your sister didn't end up punching you so far as anyone can see. Enjoy talking to the teacher."

Leaving with a smile and a wave, Eomer disappeared down one of the hallways.  Faramir watched him go before glancing at is brother speculatively. "What?" Boromir frowned at him.

"Nothing. Just hadn't ever really had any chance to talk to him before," Faramir answered, almost honestly.

"That is not the expression of nothing," Boromir said, having seen it in the past. "That is the expression of there's something interesting in front of my nose and I'm trying to figure it out, or alternatively, what to say about it."

"Then give me time to see if I can figure it out, and if I have I'll let you in on it later?" Faramir offered, not willing to even consider broaching his suspicions with other people around.

Boromir hummed and looked back at where Pippin seemed to be wide eyed and enjoying everything around him. "Well, we should get the young ones to class then."

"We're not that young," Merry responded automatically, his gaze sweeping around what he could see of the school.

"Of course not," Boromir corrected with a half smile.

Merry blinked at that, not having expected an affirmative in reply, "Right, so where are these classes again?"

Faramir suppressed his smile and motioned down the hall to their left, "Right this way."

Still trying to supress another grin, Boromir lead the way, pointing out land marks, places to avoid, and places to find food as they wound their way through the high school campus.

w-w-w

Gimli finally found Legolas down one of the side halls.  The blond was very clearly making his way to class while avoiding the main thoroughfares.  Hurrying to catch up with him, Gimli caught the other by the arm, "Hey.  Slow down would you?"

"I've got to get to class," Legolas responded, shaking the other teen off.

"Class doesn't start for another fifteen minutes and mine's right down the hall from yours."

Frowning at that, Legolas slowed his pace, "What?"

"You've been avoiding me for almost a week."

"No I--"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence.  You have so," Gimli growled.

Legolas' blue eyes darted to him at that, "What of it?  All you do when you see me is ask if I'm alright."

"That's because I want to know!  What's so wrong with that?"

"It's the only thing you've asked, like you expect me to be.  And guess what.  I'm _not_ ," Legolas snapped in response.

"I don't expect you to be, but I was insanely worried about you that night and I only got the barest information from my dad that you were still alive, and then you've been avoiding me all week.  I want to know why," Gimli caught Legolas' arm again, pulling him to a stop.

Legolas looked down at the red-head, his face impassive, "Because I was scared witless.  Because I can't bring myself to be alone anywhere, but I hate being around people I don't know nearly as much.  Because I can't consider being out after dark right now.  Because I saw Thorin brutally murder the man who was threatening my life not five minutes prior.  Which answer do you want me to give?"

Gimli rocked back on his heels at that, "But why would that make you--"

"Because I'm still not ready to deal with Ereborians!"  Legolas' eyes widened as he realized what he said, but he refused to rescind it.

Gimli's expression turned dark at that, and he nodded, speaking gruffly, "Well, I'll be on my way and won't bother you more then."

Nodding stiffly, Legolas looked down the hall, "Yes, that would be best."

Gimli glanced at him once more, before heading to class.  Legolas gave him a handful of minutes before following and slipping into his own classroom moments before it started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Faramir and Eoywn talk like pretty much no one else in the story because they care not for popular culture or current trends. Smaug is the only one who remotely speaks like either of them.


	17. I'd Rather People Not Know

Kili froze when the phone started ringing, his nose almost pressed to Fili's and his brother's legs around his waist. "Don't you dare," he growled when Fili tilted his chin back to look at the phone on his bedside table.

"It could be important," he said, voice thick and a frown between his brows.

"Don't you dare," Kili repeated, swiveling his hips forward in a short thrust that had Fili's head dropping back as the phone rang again. "Why do you even have your phone by the bed?"

"Because important things happen in the middle of the night," Fili barely managed to say, hand going out to brace on Kili's chest to keep him back though he didn't actually try to convince his brother to pull out or leave. With his other hand, the cast finally off his wrist he fumbled for the phone, shoving it between his shoulder and ear, using both hands to brace Kili back. "Hello?"

"Fili," Thorin's voice greeted and Fili let out a careful breath, eyes warning Kili to stay where he was.

"Yes, uncle?" he greeted, trying to keep his voice as even as he could as Kili narrowed his eyes.

"Is your brother there?" Thorin asked.

"He's around," Fili said and Kili tried not to laugh hysterically, bringing one hand up to pluck one of Fili's off his chest to kiss his palm. Pupils dilating, Fili met his eyes and took a deep breath. "What's going on?"

Thorin paused on the other end of the line, staring hard at the walls of the payphone and not thinking about  Smaug's accusation and the wrecked quality of Fili's voice on the other end of the line. "We have a lead," he said instead. "Please get Gloin and meet us at the place at the corner of Third and Berry Street. We're to meet with a potential client to set up business."

"Alright," Fili said, flexing the fingers of one hand against Kili's chest, as his brother kissed the fingertips of the other. He jerked the hand Kili held back, readjusting the phone against his ear and Kili reliated by shifting his hips forward. Breath shaking, Fili hit his knee against Kili's side. "I'll be there, with Gloin."

There was a hesitant pause. "You could bring Kili as well," Thorin said after a moment.

"Are you sure?" Fili asked, entire body tensing and Kili frowned, not having understood Thorin's faint voice on the other end of the phone. He smoothed both hands over Fili's side, frowning.

Thorin let out a breath, shaking his head slightly in the booth. "Maybe. If we are to succeed at this we'll need all hands on what little deck we have and he... he's part of this now, isn't he?"

"He's young," Fili hissed, ignoring the fact his younger brother had him pinned on his back on his own bed, buried deep inside him. At those lines, Kili's hands stilled, resting on Fili's stomach.

"You were younger," Thorin pointed out.

"I was impulsive," Fili snapped back, and Kili leaned  over, stretching his back out to kiss Fili's cheek opposite where the phone was.

Thorin hesitated again. "You always were," he said. "But if you come tonight, could you guarentee that he would not follow you anyway?"

"No," Fili said, meeting Kili's eyes. "I could not promise that my brother would not follow him," and Kili graced him with a smile, kissing his nose and Fili huffed out a breath Thorin could hear all the way across town.

"May I speak to him?" Thorin asked and Kili let out another breath.

"Certainly," he said and called out his brother's name, trying not to sound desperate or annoyed, even though Kili was shifting again slightly, rolling his hips in tiny movements and Fili slammed his knee into Kili's side again.

They waited several breaths, not wanting to put it off too long but not wanting to make it so apparent where Kili was before Kili took the phone Fili offered him, craddling it between his ear and shoulder as he shifted back onto his knees, dragging his brother's legs around his waist. Fili bit his hand to keep from making a sound at that. "Hello, uncle," Kili greeted, voice lighter than Fili's.

"Kili," Thorin replied. "Has your brother told you anything yet?"

"I was listening in on his part of the conversation," Kili said and Fili's eyes narrowed. "As I tend to do."

Thorin chuckled, the sound rumbling even through the phone. "Of course you do. I told him that I need him and Gloin as back up for a potential client, and that I would have you come as well."

Kili paused, understanding Fili's body language better now and he ran a hand up and down Fili's side again. "You sure?" he asked, echoing Fili's same question.

"As I'd ever be," Thorin replied, sigh heavy. "You're part of this world now, and you've even the braids to prove it. But there's few I'd trust as much."

"You know I'd always come when you call," Kili murmured, Fili's hands wrapping around his waist, finger tips stroking the skin there. Kili barely managed not to moan at that, tilting into the touch.

"Thank you," Thorin said, tone quiet. "Fili knows where we're meeting. I'll see you both there, in an hour."

"And hour," Kili agreed warmly and Fili's head thudded back against the pillow. "We'll see you then."

Thorin paused. "Is your brother alright?" he asked, still concerned about the tone in his nephew's voice.

"Oh, Fili is doing just fine," Kili almost purred, looking down at where his hair was strewn across the pillow, biting his bottom lip and trying not to move. Eyes widening, Fili narrowed them the next moment and Kili barely didn't laugh.

Thorin paused, trying not to think about Kili's voice, shaking his head to rid it of the train of thought that agreed with Smaug's insinutation. "I'll see you then," he said finally, putting the phone back down and Kili quickly dropped it back on the reciever.

"We should go," Fili started, pushing himself up and Kili shoved his shoulders back against the mattress, Fili going with a moan.

"No," he said, bending over to lick a stripe up Fili's neck before scrapping his teeth back down the same path. "Not yet."

"I should throttle you for saying that to him," Fili growled and Kili finally laughed.

Pushing one hand through Fili's hair, he braced the other next to his head. "You would never," he breathed in Fili's ear and grinned at the keen he recieved.

"I should," Fili insisted, turning his chin to one side. "You damned imp."

"And yet," Kili said lightly, "Who's the one sprayed out below the other?"

Fili's hands curled around his waist, urging him to move faster. "I could shove you into the mattress," he hissed. "And make you see stars."

Feeling the strength in his brother's arms, Kili almost offered then and there to let them change places, pressing a sloppy, open mouthed kiss to Fili instead. "Please," he panted and one of Fili's arms came up to twine in his long dark hair, pulling his face down closer.

"Later," he said, pressing his nose into Kili's ear. "Survive whatever we're about to do and I swear I will."

"I promise," Kili said, almost tearing the pillowcase next to Fili's head. "Promise."

"And I'll hold you to it," Fili said, voice deep in his chest and Kili turned enough to slam their mouths back together.

-0-

An hour later found Thorin, Fili, Kili, Gloin, and Bofur at the agreed upon meeting place, a block and a half from the establishment they were going to be going to.  The owner was a contact of Gandalf's and was in need of another supplier.

Thorin was trying not to give either of his nephews a suspicious look as he pushed the door open, taking in the dark wood and heavy ceiling, the smoky air different from the barge out in the bay with its gold and high laughter. This felt more like a branch of Gandalf's, only one that served spirits as well as good food. And, Thorin added to himself, looking around, Gandalf's had more cheer.

The owner of the speak approached from where he'd been watching for them.  He was a tall, broad man, with thick black hair and beard, "You must be Thorin Oakenshield."

"Greetings," Thorin said, inclining his head. "That is myself."

"And I am Beorn."  He motioned to a table near the back corner, "Shall we talk business?"

"I'd like to," Thorin agreed, the other Ereborians arrayed behind them.

Leading the way to the table and settling down in one of the chairs, Beorn waited for Thorin to sit as well before he spoke, "Our mutual friend made it sound as though you're a reasonable supplier."

"We do," Thorin agreed. "And the men to move what needs to be moved."

"And the cost?"

"The price is as reasonable as it can possibly be, subject to market factors," Thorin said.

Beorn considered that, running a hand over his beard as he thought, "And you were the one who took Azog out, correct?"

"Yes," Thorin nodded, hands fisting beneath the table. "I was."

That garnered a nod from the large man across from him, "Then I do believe we can do business with no trouble."

Thorin's brows twitched up but he nodded, inclining his head respectfully. "I'm glad to hear it."

"Due to only having Gandalf's word for the quality of your product, you understand that I can't take a risk for more than a crate initially, of course?"

"Of course," Thorin inclined his head again. "I respect a man with good business sense."

"Well that bodes well for continuing business then," Beorn said."When will you be able to deliver that first crate?"

"Later tonight, if you would like it," Thorin replied.

"I'll watch for your men in that case," Beorn agreed.  "I'll have your payment then."

Thorin nodded, standing. "Thank you for your business."

Beorn rose as well, offering his hand, "Thank you for your time.  And here's hoping this is the start of a good partnership."

Thorin inclined his head again as they all stood. "Here's hoping indeed," he said, Fili and Kili exchanging a look behind his back.

"Good day to you, gentlemen.  I'll watch for you tonight," Beorn rumbled, watching as the Ereborians left.

As they stepped outside, Kili looked at Fili. "That didn't seem so bad," he said under his breath and Fili shook his head slightly.

"We're just lucky he likes Gandalf and Gandalf likes us."

"And that he really hated Azog," Thorin rumbled from where he was walking in front of them.

"Who are you planning to send with the crate later?" Bofur asked after a moment.

"You and Gloin, most like," Thorin replied.

Bofur nodded slightly, falling back to walk beside Gloin, "We’ll see to it.”

-0-

“That wasn't so bad," Kili protested, following Fili back into the apartment.

"That's because it wasn't," Fili said, bracing himself against the table and twining his hands in Kili's hair, smiling at the way Kili pushed into his hands like a cat. "That was downright mild."

"I still think you promised me something," Kili smirked and Fili laughed, dropping his hands to Kili's waist.

Instead of pressing forward again though, he shifted back, sitting on the table. "I can't for the life of me remember what it was..." he teased and Kili pouted.

Pressing forward, he bit at Fili's jaw, already working to get his vest off. "Don't play hard to get," he protested. "You did entirely promise to hold me down against the bed I think."

"Did I?" Fili continued to tease, managing to remove Kili's shirt with far greater speed than Kili was managing when it came to his.

"I could always see how much I have to piss you off to get the same results," Kili said, leaning up and pulling on Fili's braids into a kiss.

The door opened suddenly, Thorin stepping in, as it had not been locked in their haste to get behind a closed door again. Fili tried to scramble his way backward and over the table but the split second between Thorin opening the door and their hurried separation had been enough.

Eyes wide, Thorin stepped back in the hall and closed the door, leaning against it.

Bofur paused on his way down from his own apartment, "Thorin?  Are you alright?"

"Fine," Thorin said, though it sounded a shade desperate. He clamped down on wanting to panic and forced his face into a neutral position. "Are you heading out again?"

"Yeah, Gloin and I are headed out in about ten minutes."

“Good," he said, nodding and wanting to scream. "Make sure this continues to go well, would you?"

"We'll see to it," Bofur touched his hat and headed downstairs to meet Gloin.

"Good," Thorin repeated and only opened the door again once Bofur was down the stairs. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open, unsure what he could possibly say to his nephews but fairly certain he had to say something.

Except the window was pushed open, and when he approached it, he could barely see Fili turn the corner, having grabbed a few things and bolted when Thorin was gone. Eyes widening, he braced himself on the window sill for a long moment.

Slowly, feeling suddenly very old, he walked up the stairs toward Dis' apartment.

His sister answered when he knocked, looking him over in confusion, concern lighting her expression, "Thorin?  What, what is it?"

Thorin leaned against the door. "I," he started and shook his head. "Fili and Kili... they left."

She paled, stepping back and pulling him in as she did so to close the door, "Left?  What do you mean left?"

"They left," he repeated. "I don't know... if they'll be back."

"Thorin, why wouldn't they be back?" she spoke slowly.  "What aren't you telling me?"

"I'm still trying to," he started and sat down heavily, taking another breath. "I think they were sleeping together."

Dis froze, "Wh-what?  You can't be...you can't be serious, Thorin."

"I really wish I wasn't," he said, burying his face in his hands.

"Why would you even think that?" She leaned her back against her door, staring at her brother.

"Because," he said, sitting back. "Because it makes so much sense, these last few months. Because I opened the door on them. And because instead of trying to explain or ask why I was so shocked they bolted."

She drew a steadying breath, trying to sort the information out in her head, speaking calmly even as her eyes held a mixture of emotions that she was still trying to define, "Fili's reaction to Kili wanting a red tie."

"What?" Thorin blinked up at her, his voice a low rumble.

"After the building burned.  When I took them shopping."  She shook her head, finally stepping away from the door and crossing to her other chair, "Kili was considering a red tie.  Fili was very firm on the fact that he would not be getting it."

"How long has this been going on?" Thorin managed, eyes still wide. "And how did we not know? When... when _Smaug_ suspected it how did we not know?"

Dis' eyes widened, feeling like the breath had been knocked out of her, " _Smaug_ suspects?"

Thorin nodded, hands tightening in his lap. "Last time I saw him, he asked me how my incestuous nephews were doing."

Reaching up to pull on her braid, Dis shook her head, "Thorin, what are, what are we supposed to do?"

"I don't know," he said, staring down at his hands. "I'm still trying to process it."

Tangling her hands in her hair Dis drew a deep breath, but shook her head, "And they've left.  We, we don't know where they've gone and...  Oh God, Thorin."

Thorin wanted to ask what they could have done wrong for so many years to reach this point but couldn't open his mouth enough to do so. "I don't know what to do," he said finally.

"There's nothing _to_ do.  My sons are, are," she shook her head again, unable to actually put it into words. " _Why_?"

Thorin looked up finally. "I'm sorry," he said and swallowed. "It's not your fault though."

She leaned her head back against the back of the chair, her gaze focused on the ceiling rather than on her brother, "Isn't it?"

"How could it be?" he asked instead. He didn't want to play a game of blaming each other, but he thought about the books he'd had, the fact of his sexual preferences and wondered if that hadn't played more of a role than he suspected.

"I don't know, but my sons have chosen not just other men but _each other_ as probable lovers."  She closed her eyes, gritting her teeth against the words that wanted to spring forth.  Vicious words that were designed to cut into her brother, to assign blame to him, to the life they lived where morality was fleeting and rare.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, flinching back slightly, almost impenetrable.

Her jaw tensed, "Don't."

"Don't what?" he asked, voice dropping low again.

"Don't apologize.  Not right now," she managed.

He opened his mouth, almost apologizing again and clicked his jaw shut. "Alright."

Dis finally straightened, looking at her brother and then away, managing to speak something other than her honest thoughts, "If it's not my fault, it's not yours either."

Not looking for a second like he actually believed her, Thorin nodded. "I should, I should leave you to it," he said finally.

Dis drew a steadying breath, not looking at him again as she nodded, "Please."

He pushed himself back to his feet, pausing to brush a hand over her shoulder and left, closing the door behind him. She waited until the latch clicked shut before she buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking as she tried to calm down and control what was racing through her mind.

Making his way back up to his apartment, Thorin barely managed not to slam the door. He went about the apartment, starting to make dinner. Except he stopped before he could do more than cut a few vegetables, bracing his hands against the counter and trying to think about the coming business deal and not the fear in Fili's eyes or the way Kili had been leaning against him, pulling back from a kiss even as Thorin saw them.

There was a light tap on his door a few minutes later, Bilbo stopping there after he got back from work. Thorin's shoulders twitched at the sound, pushing himself back and almost pretending he just wasn't there. But only Bilbo knocked on the door like that and he wasn't actually sure he wanted to be alone. Except when he did open the door, he realized he probably really did want to be alone. "Hello," he said instead.

"Hello," Bilbo replied, gaze skimming over Thorin, "is everything alright?"

He opened his mouth to say yes of course, and instead said, "No."

“What's wrong?"  Bilbo asked, concern lighting his eyes even as he resisted the urge to smooth a hand over Thorin's brow.

"Noth--" he started and his shoulders sagged. "Fili and Kili are gone," he admitted. Soon, everyone would notice their absence and he had no way to explain it.

Eyes widening, Bilbo reached out and place a hand on Thorin's arm, "Gone?  But, but why?"

He opened his mouth and closed it, still unsure what possible excuse he could come up with. Instead he shuffled Bilbo into the apartment and closed the door, shrugging. Bilbo blinked at that, glancing at the closed door before returning his attention to the other, "Thorin?"

"I'm sorry," he said and almost wanted to bang his head into the wall. "It's been a long night. How was work?"

"Long."  Bilbo paused, trying to think why Fili and Kili would have left and he stilled when he came upon the most likely reason but he put it aside and focused on Thorin's question, "We had more customers than usual on this shift--with the exception of Friday's of course."

"Of course," Thorin said, almost smiling and then remembered next friday it would be obvious to Gandalf that Fili and Kili weren't there and the expression fell off his face.

"Thorin, what happened?"  Bilbo pressed, worry in his eyes at the other's expressions.

"Nothing," he tried again and shook his head, looking over at the window, away from Bilbo.

The more Thorin denied anything had happened, the more convinced Bilbo became that his suspicions were right.  He spoke before he realized what he was intending to say, "Did they tell you?"

Thorin tensed, slowly turning back to look at his lover. "Tell me?" he repeated.

Bilbo's eyes widened slightly and he resisted the urge to take a step back, "Nothing."

"Bilbo," Thorin said, tone demanding. "What did they tell you?"

"They, they never told me anything directly," he said quickly.

"Then what did you know?" Thorin demanded, trying not to let anger bubble up.

Bilbo seemed to recede a bit, poised to retreat if he needed to, "That they were sleeping together."

"And you didn't think to mention that?" Thorin hissed to keep himself from roaring.

Taking a step back, Bilbo kept his gaze focused on Thorin's face, "It wasn't my place to tell anyone."

"It wasn't?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "They were--they are--" he amended. "And you didn't think to tell anyone?"

"What was I supposed to say?  Would you have even believed me?"  He shook his head, "And, no, it was their place not mine.  Why would it have been mine?"

"Because you knew," Thorin said as if that mattered. "Because they left before I could--" He trailed off, still not entirely sure what he actually would have done.

"Thorin, your nephews were horrified by the thought of anyone else knowing, and with good reason," Bilbo insisted.  "I was not going to betray something I shouldn't have even known about in the first place.  They weren't doing harm to anyone with their actions."

"Is this about harm?" Thorin asked, anger in his chest. "It's about... They're brothers, Bilbo."

Bilbo raked a hand through his curly hair, "Yes, and it's morally, socially and legally reprehensible.  On two levels.  What do you want me to say?  I'm sorry I didn't tell you?  I won't do you the disservice of telling you that because it's a lie."

Thorin almost asked him what else he wasn't telling him and didn't quite dare. "I would rather have known," he said finally. "Rather than walk in on them--"

Paling very slightly, Bilbo drew a steadying breath, "I had hoped they would tell you, though I suppose I didn't expect it.  I'm sorry about _that_.  I just, I couldn't, Thorin."

"How long?" Thorin asked instead.

"The time they stayed on my floor.  The night your old building burned," Bilbo murmured.  "It had been going on before that, but that's when I figured it out."

Thorin paled even more at that. "But, Kili--" he started and decided he should really sit down.

Bilbo hesitated, "I'm, I'm not saying any of this is right, but Thorin they had some idea of what they were doing."

"Why, do you have some idea of what they're doing?" Thorin asked, voice strained.

"Not specifically, but Thorin this is Fili and Kili we're talking about.  Do you think that Fili hasn't gone round and round about all the ways in which this is a bad idea?  Or the guilt of it?"

Thorin's face shut down, obviously not wanting to think about that. "I need to think," he said finally. "And I don't know what to say to the others."

"Well, you sure as hell can't tell them the truth," Bilbo responded.  "Since you can't even tell it to yourself."  He paused and glanced toward the door, "Shall I leave you alone to think then?"

Sighing, Thorin nodded. Even though it seemed like since the four young Shirelings had moved in he rarely got to see Bilbo, he couldn't stand the thought of Bilbo staying. "Unless you have any ideas."

Bilbo shook his head very slightly, "No, I'm, I'm sorry."

"Then I think that would be best," Thorin said quietly.

"You know where to find me if you need anything," Bilbo murmured, turning to go. Thorin watched the door close behind him and buried his head in his hands.

Bilbo leaned against the wall for a long moment before he had pulled himself together enough to go upstairs and join his younger cousins for the evening.

-0-

"Shit, shit, shit," Kili said once they got the door closed behind them, having checked into the nearest run down hotel that would accept two obvious Ereborians.

"Sh," Fili tried to sooth, running a hand over Kili's hair.

"Shit--Thorin--Do you think he told mother?" Kili asked, voice growing smaller and Fili drew in a long breath.

"I don't know, probably."

Looking around the room, he moved over to sit down on the bed, shifting the bag he'd shoved everything he could reach into as Kili joined him. Neither of them even thought about whether or not they should have waited for Thorin to approach them again.

"What're we gonna do?" Kili asked, looking at his hands and Fili reached over to twine their fingers together. Sighing, Kili leaned against his shoulder, burying his face there.

"I don't know," Fili admitted. "But we'll figure it out."

Kili nodded. "Do you think he hates us?"

Barely not sighing, Fili leaned back so he was lying down, pulling Kili with him. "I don't know."

Kili shifted, pressing closer against his side and Fili kissed the top of his head. "I don't want them too," he said faintly. "But I'm not going to give you up either."

"We'll figure something out, okay?" Fili offered, trying not to think that school would start for both of them within a couple days. Kili was so close to graduation, and his college career had been rocky enough to begin with. He wondered if they would need to get jobs outside of the family and he closed his eyes rather than think more about it. "We'll figure it out. In the morning."

"Alright," Kili said, slinging an arm over his waist. "In the morning."

-0-

Faramir stepped inside the school building for the first day back from Christmas break and glanced at his older brother.  It was always a mixed feeling coming back to classes after that particular break, though this year had been better.  He hadn't dreaded the vacation and there had been no legal battle going on, which meant that he had been able to actually relax and get Gandalf's books in order for the end of the year as well as getting some reading he'd been planning on completed.

"Welcome back," Boromir sighed. "Say, are you ever asking Eowyn out again?"

"Probably," Faramir answered.  "I haven't seen her since classes got out, and it's not like we had much time between the last dinner and the end of classes for break."

"You could probably have tried to see her over break," Boromir pointed out, nodding to a couple people. "Please just don't turn around and bury your head again, alright?"

"I got busy," Faramir protested, which wasn't entirely true but he had accomplished enough over break that he could probably make the argument for it.  "I like her too much to bury my head again, as you put it."

Boromir looked down the hall and grinned, seeing her pale blonde hair in its long braid standing near a doorway. "Good. Go ask her out again."

Faramir stilled, following his brother's gaze and whacking Boromir's arm, "You're infuriating.  I don't even know where to ask her out to."

"Then ask her over for dinner, I'll cook," Boromir said as if it was the most simple thing in the world.

His brother blinked at that, "You're serious?"

"Is there a reason I wouldn't be?" Boromir asked in some confusion.

"No, I'll, I'll go ask her," he paused for another moment before drawing a deep breath and moving to Eowyn.

Boromir grinned after him and Eowyn turned as he approached, brushing her hair away from her face. "Hello," she greeted, voice quiet.

Faramir offered her a faint smile, "Hello.  How are you?"

She shrugged slightly. "Alright, I suppose. Did you have a productive break?"

"It was, yes." He nodded, "How was yours?"

She shrugged again. "It passed well enough, there was not much to really cause excitement though."

"Sometimes those can be the best breaks, though."  He paused, "How is your family doing?"

Shifting her shoulders slightly she pushed her hair back against just to give her hands something to do. Small talk made her uncomfortable, especially about her family. "Fine."

Faramir rocked back on his heels.  He felt like he'd stepped wrong from the moment he'd approached her but he was there and suddenly remembering why he so rarely spoke with other people.  Social niceties and small talk were ingrained enough that he couldn't find other ways to word things some days.  He tried again, still sure he was going to fall into sounding rote even when he wasn't meaning to, "Is Theodred doing any better?"

Still looking like she wasn't sure whether to find him suspicious or not, she nodded. "Yes, he came home for a while. But," she paused then. "It'll never really get better."

"How is your uncle holding up?"  Faramir asked quietly.

"As well as he ever could," she said, smiling faintly but thinking about how tired he looked when she and Eomer would get home. "Is," she cleared her throat. "Is there anything I could help you with?"

"Well, I haven't seen you in a couple of weeks and wanted to say hello, to begin with," Faramir said, running a hand over the back of his neck.  "And I was wondering if you would be interested in having dinner again sometime soon?  Boromir's offered to cook, I would have but you're less likely to end up accidentally poisoned and the apartment's less likely to burn to the ground if he does it."

She blinked, clearly surprised. "Your... brother offered to cook?" she asked, unsure what exactly to make of that.

 Faramir smiled faintly, "He did.  If, if you'd like.  We could go out instead if you would prefer, but I can promise that Boromir makes some of the best food I've ever tasted."

"I'd never have suspected it of him," she said, but smiled faintly. "That sounds more... intimate than the other night."

"It, it could be seen that way."  He hesitated, "Like I said, if you'd prefer we could go out again, instead."

"It should be fine," she said, a shade quickly. "Are you certain it will be alright with your brother, though?"

"He, actually he offered to do so."

"Has he thought it through, do you think?" Eowyn asked. "I'm not sure how big your apartment is, and if he's considered being stuck with us all night."

Faramir blinked twice at that and then smiled faintly, "No, I don't think he's actually thought that through yet."

"He is, however, looking over here quite smugly," she said, glancing over Faramir's shoulder.

He rubbed his eyes and shot a look over his shoulder at his brother, "That is not surprising.  Shall we point out to him that he's offered to spend the evening as a third party to dinner?"

"If you think he hasn't thought of it already," she said, looking more amused than she had before.

"I'm pretty certain he hasn't fully," Faramir answered, shaking his head in bemusement before motioning for Boromir to join them.

Ambling over, Boromir offered Eowyn a smile, making her tilt back slightly. "Yeah? What's going on?"

"We were wondering if you'd thought through making dinner, sine it would mean that you're a third party to that and kind of on your own," Faramir responded.

"As you were cooking, it seemed possibly rude," Eowyn said, squaring her shoulders.

"So invite Eomer to come too," Boromir said, without pausing long enough to look like he'd thought about it.

Faramir blinked at his brother, giving him an appraising look, "You're sure?"

Boromir shrugged. "Yeah, why not?"

"No reason."  He glanced at Eowyn, "Think your brother would like to join us all for dinner, then?"

"I'll ask him," she said after a beat, shrugging. "I'm sure he'd like to."

"When do we think will work best?"  He asked, looking from her to his brother and back.

"Whenever would suit you," Eowyn said, and Boromir cut in before they could hedge any further.

"What about next Thursday?" he said between them.

"As the cook I'm sure it's up to you," Eowyn said, shifting again and looking uncomfortable about deferring to anyone.

Faramir nodded very slightly, "Thursday say six?"

She nodded again. "I'll see that Eomer knows, if he wishes to come."

That earned a bright smile from Faramir and he quickly dug out a piece of paper and a pencil, scribbling down the address and directions.

"What's all this then?  Should I be worried about the three of you conspiring?"  Eomer's voice cut in from behind Boromir, amusement tingeing his tone.

"Certainly you should," Boromir said, tone easy as he turned. "Especially if you worry about conspiracies that involve good food. Anyway, I need to get to class."

Eomer's brow rose at that, "Food?  And, alright, good to see you then."

"They have invited us for dinner," Eowyn explained.

"Dinner?"  Eomer looked at his sister for a moment as that processed and then toward Boromir and back, "When?"

"We were talking about Thursday at six," Faramir answered quietly.

"I think that sounds like a great idea," Eomer smiled.  "Is there anything you want us to bring?"

"Only if there's something you really want," Boromir said. "Otherwise, I got it covered." With a wave, he turned and moved down the hallway, having spotted Aragorn entering their first class room.

Eomer watched him go, "Well, we probably ought to all get to class too, then."

Faramir's brows rose very slightly, "Probably."  He handed the paper with the address and directions to Eowyn, "The address for our apartment."

"Thank you," she said, and then, "Have a good first day of class."

He offered her a smile at that, "Thank you.  You too."

As he left, she glanced up at her brother. "You're not obligated to come," she said, still unsure about either of the brothers.

"I want to though," he answered.  "It could be fun."

"It could be," she agreed, considering. "I still don't know what to think about either of them. It seems like it would be too easy to trust either."

"It might not be a bad thing," Eomer replied with a half shrug.  "They're not bad sorts."

She hummed, still looking after where they had gone. "If you say so. I'll see you during lunch, brother."

"Have a good day, Eowyn," her brother replied, offering her a smile before heading to his first class.

-0-

Slipping into the school only a few minutes before the bell was supposed to ring, Kili looked around. He was hoping that the four Shirelings and Gimli would already be long since in their class rooms and that he might be able to avoid them entirely.

Gimli, however, had been distracted with trying to locate Legolas--the blond seemed to still be avoiding him.  He was going to be late for class at the rate he was going, but he stopped the second he saw the other Ereborian, "Kili!  Where the hell have you been?"

 Shoulders twitching, Kili looked over. "Oh. Hey Gimli."

"Where have you been?  Your uncle says you three had a fight, but we haven't heard anything from you or Fili," Gimli glanced down the hall, but turned his attention back to Kili.  "Must have been a hell of a fight."

The corner of Kili's mouth twitched and he wasn't sure whether it was to frown or laugh hysterically. "A bit of a fight, yeah," he hedged. "We just... Thought it was best to give him some time to cool down."

"How long are you two gonna be gone?"

"I don't know," Kili replied honestly. "I guess it depends on Thorin."

Gimli grimaced at that, "But you guys are alright?"

"Yeah, we're alright," Kili said. They weren't quite fine but Fili had enough money saved up to last them a while, and they'd managed to grab essentials on the way out the fire escape. "How's the family doing?"

"Well enough.  Worried about you two, but we're getting by.  The sale to Beorn went off without a hitch."

"I'm glad," Kili said, actually meaning it. "And I'm sure you'll be able to tell everyone we're fine."

"I'll do that."  He paused, looking his cousin over, "You won't tell me where you guys are staying, will you?"

Kili frowned at him. "Why?"

"I'm curious and people are worried?"  Gimli offered.

"I'd rather people not know, right now," Kili said."But don't worry, I'm not stupid enough to miss the last semester of school."

"Alright, just be careful, you know?"

"Don't worry," he grinned, not entirely sure he meant it. "That's something we very much are." He glanced up as the bell rang, not even bothering to sigh that he was late.

Gimli muttered a curse under his breath, "See you at lunch."  With that he bolted for his classroom.

For a moment, Kili watched him go, wondering if despite promises to Fili he would get away with just skipping the first few classes. Instead, he pulled himself toward the class room, sliding into the back. He was definitely going to avoid Gimli at lunch for as long as he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your author's only, continuing excuse, is graduate school.


	18. Temporary Withdrawal to Regroup

Frodo entered the lunchroom, looking around before crossing to sit down next to Boromir.  He recognized the expression, caught somewhere between longing and jealousy, in the other's eyes and followed his gaze to where Aragorn sat with Arwen.  Merry and Pippin weren't there yet, nor were Sam or Faramir which meant that the eldest of the four Shirelings didn't worry much about asking, "How long?"

"How long what?" Boromir asked, snapping his eyes down and still looking vaguely confused that the Shirelings had gotten into the habit of eating lunch with him--usually it was driven by Merry and Pippin.

"Aragorn," Frodo answered quietly.  "How long have you been pining after Aragorn?"

Choking on air, Boromir shook his head, folding his elbows on the table. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said instead, suddenly feeling less hungry.

"I've worn that look you were using toward him," Frodo said, looking toward his own lunch and considering it.  "You don't have to answer, but I doubt that you don't know what I mean."

"Have you now," Boromir said under his breath. He still wasn't sure to make of the quietest of the four.

Frodo frowned at that, murmuring as he kept an eye out for his cousins and Sam in order to cut the conversation when he saw them, "You don't believe me."

"That's not necessarily what I meant," he replied, not quite looking over anymore. "It's just not something most people say."

"Well, it's not something most people recognize," came the response.  "I ended up shoving him at the girl he's in love with at the last dance our town had.  It...didn't help."

Boromir blinked, not quite looking impressed but certainly closer than he ever had before. "That I admit to not being able to imagine. Of course, I never had to do much shoving."

"He doesn't think he deserves her," Frodo grimaced slightly.  "But they're happy when they're together which is what matters, I guess."

"What about you?" Boromir asked, curious.

Frodo blinked at him, "What do you mean?"

"Well if he's happy and she's happy, what about you?"

"I, I'm glad he's happy. I'm not always happy about it, and I'll probably pine for him for years.  But I'd rather he be happy with her and be his friend."

"It's a rather noble sentiment," Boromir said, shaking his head very slightly.

"I'm feeling neutral about it today, and it's helped that she's still an ocean away," Frodo replied mutedly, focusing on the table.

Boromir laughed, shaking his head slightly. "I suppose an ocean would help. But, later. In the long run. What do you intend to do?"

"Long run?"  He drew a deep breath, "Be his friend.  Probably stand with him if he ever decides to get married.  Feel my heart fall to pieces and try to pick it up as I go.  But, it will be worth it to see him that happy."

"It still sounds fairly awful to me," Boromir said, looking away again. "To live like that."

"Well, what other option do I really have?"  Frodo asked.  "I care about him too much and I know that, but seeing him happy, I can't help but smile.  It does make me happy to see him like that and if that's the price I have to pay for it, then I will."

Boromir shook his head again slightly. "As I said, it's a noble sentiment."

Frodo sighed, "We'll see how long it lasts."

Boromir laughed slightly, shaking his head. "Well, I wish you luck with nobility then."

Frodo snorted, "Good luck, yourself."

"I'm not trying to be nearly so noble myself," Boromir replied.

"You're still going to school with him and he's still dating someone.  You need luck as much as I do whether you're being noble or not."

Boromir snorted. "Well thank you for that then."

Frodo's lips quirked upward, "You're welcome I guess."  He looked around the cafeteria, finally spotting his cousins and Sam and offering them a bright smile from across the room.

"So what are you talking about?" Pippin asked, plopping down and grinning excitedly.

"Nobility," Boromir said, considering the three of them and realizing that Frodo had never actually expressed who he was so in love with, though he could well guess.

Pippin wrinkled his nose. "That's a proper topic of conversation when there's food?"

"Not particularly hungry," Borormir offered with a shrug and Pippin's jaw dropped, totally aghast that such a thing was possible.

Merry looked toward Frodo who shook his head, denying Merry the right to ask him at that moment.  The blond grimaced at his older cousin as he sat down next to Pippin, "It's Frodo, Pip, I doubt the conversation was light enough for food not matter the topic."

Frodo rolled his eyes, but laughed quietly, "Thank you for that, Merry."

"You are unaccountably dreary sometimes, Frodo," Pippin said and solemnly handed him one of his biscuits, as if that was the answer to making him a happier person.

That earned a smile and a shake of Frodo's head as he accepted the biscuit, "I suppose that I can hardly be dreary when you're giving me one of your biscuits, Pippin."

"Exactly," Pippin said. "You should appreciate this."

Merry laughed at that, "You fight me for those biscuits, Frodo better appreciate it."

"I fight you for them because they're the best," Pippin said. "Besides, you don't need the same boost that Frodo seems to--you're already happy." Boromir just arched a brow, trying not to grin.

"You'll get wide, eating all of Mr. Ori's biscuits like that," Sam said, shaking his head slightly. "Besides, he has classes of his own again and can't be cooking for you all the time like over break."

"Pippin's still got a metabolism that's fast enough to keep up with it," Frodo replied with a shrug, breaking the biscuit in half and offering half to Boromir.

Grinning, Boromir accepted it. "Only if you're sure," he said, as Pippin stuck his tongue out at Sam who simply grunted.

"I’m not as devoted to these as Pippin is, but they're quite good," Frodo said with a slight nod.

Merry laughed, "'Quite good'.  Only you would describe these that way, Frodo."

Starting on his half, Boromir blinked. "These are... a little more than quite good. Who did you say made them?"

"Ori," Merry answered with an easy grin.

Boromir paused, considering Faramir's friend. "The Ereborian?" he asked, frowning slightly.

Frodo nodded, "Do you know him?"

"He's good friends with my brother," Boromir replied. "How on Earth do you know him?"

"We live with him," Pippin chirped. "Well, not live with in the sense of with with, but in the same building. Our cousin was invited to live there when we showed up as he no longer had room, as his place was designed for one not five."

"It's a very spacious apartment," Merry chipped in.  "Three bedrooms and everything."

Frodo fell silent and pensive at that comment, his attention on his food rather than on Sam across from him.

"What is it, Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked, watching him.

Boromir seemed to consider. When he had been there, he'd never seen anyone who was not Ereborian and wondered how they'd moved in. "I'm sure they're all very nice people," he said finally, still munching through the biscuit. "You couldn't happen to ask him for his trade secrets, could you?"

Frodo blinked up at Sam and shook his head, offering a smile, "Nothing, Sam, still just thinking it was awfully generous of them to offer that."

Merry laughed, "I've told Pippin that he needs to ask for the recipe and give it to Aunt Eglantine to see if she would be willing to make them."

Pippin shrugged. "I can always check, I don't know, I don't think he's the type to horde anything."

Sam leaned back, nodding and turning to his food. The dark-haired Shireling turned his attention to his youngest cousin, "He's been more than willing to make the biscuits for you, I'm sure he would have no problems giving you the recipe."

"I'll ask!" Pippin assured, plowing through the vast amounts of food he brought, making Boromir's eyebrows inch up.

Frodo chuckled at Boromir's expression, "You should see what he eats when he doesn't have to pack it as a lunch."

"I'm actually terrified to."

Merry shook his head, "Oh, come now, Frodo, it's not as bad as that."

Boromir considered the pile of food already gone and what remained. "I don't think I could keep up, cooking for you. At least Faramir eats small meals most of the time."

Faramir approached from behind his brother, sliding into the seat next to him, "Why are you discussing what I eat?"

"Because I don't think I could cook for him," Boromir said, gesturing over at where Pippin was still eating. "I mean, even with your more bunny rabbit eating tendencies."

"Okay, the rabbit comment was nominally funny the first time.  Before break," Faramir said, elbowing his brother but there was the slightest upward turn of his lips.

"Which is why it's still funny now," Boromir said, Sam looking up in some interest at the idea of a rabbit before looking back down.

Merry looked between the brothers, "Rabbit?"

"He compared me to a rabbit in conversation and its kept going," Faramir replied, shaking his head.

"You have the spine to be one, even Eomer admits it now," Boromir said.

"I'll have to remember to thank him for that," Faramir drawled.

"I'm sure he'd appreciate it," Boromir said, not sounding sarcastic but clearly being so. Pippin glanced up from what he was eating and beamed over at Faramir, thinking a rabbit rather suited him, and returned to what he was eating.

"I'll try to remember when they come over for dinner," his younger brother said.

"Excellent," Boromir said, finally starting on his own lunch now that he was not looking directly at Aragorn or thinking about the way he leaned into Arwen's space and smiled too much.

w-w-w

Legolas had spent much of Christmas vacation sorting through his thoughts and feelings and fears and had taken the first few days back at school to work up to talking to Gimli.  By the time he had made the decision to do so, he realized that the Ereborian was avoiding him and, though it took some time, he finally managed to stop the other in an empty hallway, "Gimli."

The red-head frowned at him, "What?"

"We need to talk," Legolas managed.

"So you're ready to deal with Ereborians, now?"

Managing not to flinch at his own words echoed, Legolas hesitated, "Not, not entirely.  But you're, you're you and I don't want to keep avoiding each other."

"Well, isn't that nice.  I'll remind you that I'm not the one who decided to sever that tie before break."

"And I know that.  I, I wanted to apologize for how I broke things off, but can we at least try talking?"

Gimli's jaw tensed as he replied, "Look, I know what happened scared the hell out of you, I'm not surprised, but you can't just throw me out with everyone else, damn it."

Legolas' eyes narrowed very slightly, "Hence the talking to you bit.  You'll excuse me if I didn't want reminders of what happened and how Thorin bashed in someone's skull in front of me."

"To save your life," Gimli replied.

"Then why not make it quicker?  Bashing his skull in and _then_ slitting his throat?  It was...it was brutal--unnecessarily so."

"Who says what's necessary?" Gimli shot back, clearly irritated.

The blond tensed, watching Gimli, "You didn't see it.  You haven't dreamt about it.  That level of brutality was unnecessary."

"You sound like your father," Gimli growled.

"Well, maybe I'm learning that he's got some things right," came the almost snapped response.

"He's gone after my family with a single-minded purpose for years."

"That's bullshit," Legolas replied sharply.  "He's done his job.  Your family is a group of gangsters and bootleggers.  My father's a cop and a damn good one, who can be driven but hasn't singled your family out specifically don't you dare try to tell me that."

Gimli crossed his arms over his chest, "You were singing a different song before this all went down."

"Yeah?  Well, I hadn't realized what I was arguing fully.  And I didn't recognize the danger to civilians."

"You're a cop's son, that hardly counts as a civilian," Gimli replied, hands clenching.

Legolas raised his chin, almost looking down his nose at the other, "My mistake, I thought we could have a reasonable conversation, but that appears like it was a false hope."

"You're the one that accused my family of unnecessary brutality in the act of _saving your hide_!"

"Forget I said anything.  Hell, forget I even started this conversation," Legolas muttered, preparing to go.

"Fine, run away.  That's all you're doing," Gimli muttered.  "I gotta get to class."

Legolas' jaw tensed again, but he nodded once, turned on his heel, and strode off.  Gimli watched him go, his temper still riding high even as he wanted to call Legolas back and apologize and hear him out and try to get them back on kilter.

w-w-w

Since they'd left the apartment building, Fili had taken up smoking again when he was on campus, though it made Kili cringe still. Even though he'd been so careful to tell Kili things would work out, and selected clothing for the both of them a few days after they left, he felt jittery in his own skin. He wanted to call Dis just to hear her voice, and he wanted to pester Nori because it was what he was used to.

As it was, he was trying to avoid Dwallin as much as he could, having switched his schedule around, and was unsure if he would see Bilbo or Ori on campus.

Maybe, he thought, leaning against the side of the humanities building and smoking, they really should have run all the way out of town. It might have been easier.

Bilbo came out of his literature class for the quarter, looking over the syllabus and frowning at the work load for the week.  He'd been half-watching for Fili since classes had started, worried about the brothers, but hadn't seen the other.  Glancing up, he blinked a couple of times to make certain he wasn't imagining things and crossed to his friend quickly, "Fili, oh thank goodness."

Startling slightly, Fili looked over, cigarette dangling from his fingers. "Bilbo," he greeted. "Hello."

"So you are attending classes this quarter, I was worried I wasn't going to see you," Bilbo said, glancing briefly at the cigarette but not commenting on it.

"I've spent enough time working on it, it'd be a shame and stupid to stop now," Fili shrugged.

"Are you two doing alright?" Bilbo asked quickly.

"Kili and I?" he asked. "We're doing fine. Mostly. I suppose."

Bilbo considered the other man for a moment, "Are you up for say getting coffee or something, or do you have somewhere to be?"

He paused, almost claiming to have somewhere to be before he nodded. "Sure, coffee would be nice."

Bilbo couldn't help but smiling faintly at the fact that Fili hadn't taken the out he had given him.  He shifted his bookbag and started toward a nearby cafe, "Is there anything you two need?"

"I remember reading one of Ori's books about a time machine once," Fili said. "I think one that goes back in time and not forward to some crazy future would be good."

"If I could offer that to you, I would.  Literature students don't have much access to those things, though I'm afraid."

"Well, you know, if you ever run into a scientist who's figured it out," Fili said. "I'd rather avoid the Morlocks though."

"Well, that’s why you go backward and not forward," Bilbo responded with a decisive nod.

The corner of Fili's mouth quirked up. "Yeah, as I said, that's what I want it for anyway. How, how are you? And everyone?"

"I'm, I'm doing alright.  It's a little easier with the four in the apartment now that they're in school again.  Everyone is, well quite frankly everyone's worried about you two.  Your uncle told them the three of you had a fight, but that's the last word on it," Bilbo answered, slipping his hands in his pockets and glancing at Fili.

Fili almost tripped. "So he didn't tell anyone what really happened then?"

"I think your mother knows, and he told me, but otherwise no one knows."

"He told you?" Fili asked, actually surprised. "So you really do know we didn't leave because of some perceived fight."

"It was kind of us both stumbling around the question of what had happened until we both confirmed that the other knew about you more than anything," Bilbo replied, having not seen very much of Thorin since then.  "But, yes, I do know that much."

Fili let out a long breath. "And have you two talked much since then? I can't see him handling that someone else knew very well."

The other winced very slightly, but shook his head, "No.  We haven't.  It went about as well as might be expected with the fact that I didn't tell him about the two of you."

"He does frown on not knowing things," Fili agreed.

"Have you considered calling him, or your mother, just to let them know that you're alright?"

Fili shrugged as they entered the cafe. "Yes, of course. That doesn't mean it's a good idea."

Bilbo looked at him for a long moment before crossing to an out of the way table, "If you think so."

"I do," Fili said but he didn't sound happy about it.

The waitress came over and took their orders for coffee before leaving again, Bilbo watching her go before turning back to Fili, "They're worried about you, you know."

"And I'm sure you'll be able to tell them we're quite alright," he replied, propping his chin up with one hand.

"Mostly I suppose," Bilbo responded, trying to keep the dryness out of his tone as he echoed Fili's earlier offering as to how fine he and his brother were.

Sighing, Fili shook his head slightly. "I'm sorry, I'm not really sure what you'd like me to say. I don't even know if it's safe to approach Thorin and god knows--" he stopped, swallowing hard. "God knows how mother reacted, if he told her which I am sure he did."

Bilbo rubbed his eyes, nodding very slightly, "No, I...I understand that, really.  I hate to see you all like this, is all. Your mother and Thorin have barely exchanged three words, from what I've heard and the two of you aren't even sure you can approach either of them."

Fili looked down, guilt obvious in his shoulder line. "It was stupid to begin with," he said, quietly.

The other man frowned at that, "Fili, do you honestly believe that?"

"Yes and no," he said, voice soft. "I should never have let it start in the first place but now that it is--"

"You're in love with him.  There are many levels on which that's not right, but could you give it up?  _Would_ you give it up?" Bilbo watched him carefully.

"No," he said without thinking about it. "I should. He'd kill me for trying, though. Besides, it's hardly like I could get away from him. He’s still my brother."

"Then it seems to me there's no use worrying about what's already passed, what should have happened before it started, things like that."  He paused as the coffee arrived, only starting to talk again when the server had departed, "Are you planning to stay away for good?"

"I don't know," he said, wanting to bury his face in his arms and not look up. "If we are, we'll need to leave town, probably."

Bilbo's grey eyes widened slightly, "For the love of God, Fili, don't do that."

"Why not?" he asked, turning the coffee around the table without drinking from it. "If we're going to stay away, one would think we'd have to do that somewhere else. Look, I'm not saying that's what I'm planning or what I want, yet."

“Just," he paused for a long moment, "exhaust your other options before you go that route, please?"

Pulling on the left braid behind his ear, Fili nodded. "Alright. I just don't really know what other options there are."

Bilbo's eyes followed the motion, "Don't, don't rule out the possibility of reconciliation at least?"

"Do you really think it would work?" Fili returned.

"I think you shouldn't dismiss the chance of it working," Bilbo replied

"Right now? The idea sounds like a nice fantasy, not something I'm expecting," Fili replied, voice sounding hollow.

That earned a faint sigh, "I wish I could offer you concrete reassurances, but they don't exist in this situation."

"Concrete is not really a thing we have, generally speaking," Fili said, corner of his mouth twisting up. "There's something about having enemies and living on the edge of dire straits."

"Right, of course, how could I forget?" Bilbo asked wryly.  "But the two of you are keeping yourselves safe?"

"As we can be," he said. "Which, sometimes doesn't feel like all that much."

“Just keep yourselves alive and in one piece, please.  You know I worry about you, regardless of this whole mess."

Fili almost said something bitter about how at least someone did and knew it wasn't true. "Thank you, Bilbo."

"That's like thanking me for breathing, but you're welcome."

"Breathing for you is an exertion for other people," Fili grinned at him. "How are you classes?"

Bilbo managed a laugh at that, "No worse than last quarter for work-load, if I ignore the fact that I am now doing my reading and writing with four other people in my apartment all doing their own work and occasionally asking me for help. It's balancing out, all around, and I've got the right sort of schedule to be able to pick up a couple of more hours at Gandalf's, which is nice.  I've got Professor Elrond again.  What about you?  How are your classes looking?"

Fili shrugged. "Rather a lot like classes, really."

Grinning, Bilbo shook his head, "Imagine that, who would have guessed."

"It would be very shocking, if we weren't on a college campus," Fili agreed. He paused and sighed again. "Sometimes I'm not sure why I'm bothering."

"What do you mean?"

"With college," he said. "I don't... I'm not really a good student. Everyone else here is working toward something or because they love it and I'm just here."

"Well, why are you here?"  Bilbo asked after a moment, "Surely there's _some_ reason you can find."

"But it's not," he started and stopped. "People have plans and I've only ever had the ghost of Erebor, Erebor as the family went anyway, to chase."

"But you came here regardless of that."

"I don't like giving up," Fili sighed. "Besides, I just want, I want to be able to protect Kili, you know? He's punch me in the face if I told him that but I don't want whatever we've had, I want something else. I just don't know what yet."

"See, you have reason to be here," Bilbo murmured.  " _That's_ why you're bothering."

"I'm never sure it's enough," Fili said and shook his head. "But enough about that. It'll work out."

"It will.  If you need anything, please let me know."

Fili paused, watching him as he drank from the coffee mug, wishing he hadn't tossed his cigarette away earlier. "Some of our clothes might be nice," he said. "If you could manage. But don't worry about it."

Bilbo paused, and then nodded, "I'll try."

"Thank you," Fili said with a faint smile. "And I'd really like it if you didn't tell everyone where we are."

"I don't know where you are, remember?" Bilbo answered with a ghost of a smile of his own.  "I just know that I ran into you and you're doing alright."

"Well, I meant more that you didn't even see me here," Fili said. "I mean, unless they ask specifically, I guess I shouldn't ask you to lie but..."

"I ran into you, I'm not going to say where, Fili."  He paused, "But if Thorin asks directly, I won't lie to him.  I, I can't.  Not right now.  I can tell him you asked me not to, but I can't offer more than that."

"That's all I could ask for," Fili agreed. "Thank you."

"Of course," Bilbo said simply.

"Still," Fili said. "I'm sorry to cause trouble with you and Thorin."

"Don't be," he paused before offering a wry smile.  "By the way, I've been meaning for a month to apologize to you for asking about the two of you so bluntly..."

Fili arched his brows. "What?"

"That morning after you spent the night on my floor.  I've been meaning to apologize for asking you about my suspicions so abruptly."

"Well you technically asked Kili," Fili said, shaking his head slightly. "But I'll pass that along. You didn't seem guilty about it at the time though."

"Well, I hadn't realized exactly," Bilbo paused, considering and changed tacks. "Your uncle came out of the shower about two minutes after my cousins originally showed up at my door."

Fili blinked at him for a moment before choking on air as he tried not to laugh. "You're kidding. Was this before you knew they were coming? Or rather when you found out?"

Biblo shook his head, smiling faintly, speaking in an undertone, "This would have been when I found out.  They showed up on the doorstep, explained that to me and your uncle walked out with his hair down and shirtless."

Fili bowed his head and laughed, shoulders shaking. "I can't imagine. Do they know?"

"I think Frodo has suspicions.  In fact, unless I'm very much mistaken all of them but Pippin could at least guess at it," Bilbo pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Do you think they would mind?" Fili asked, propping his chin in the palm of one hand.

"I'm less concerned with them and more worried about what would happen should they mention anything back home.  Though Sam certainly wouldn't approve," Bilbo set his cup aside.  "I think Merry would be more amused than anything, and I don't really know about Frodo."

"He seems a very quiet sort," Fili mused. "I can't see him really spreading anything around."

"No, I can't see him doing that.  He is quiet, possibly more than is strictly healthy all the time--he tends to brood if he thinks too much.  Sam keeps an eye out for him, though.  I'm less worried about him saying anything than I am of him objecting.  I mean, he's my younger cousin, but he’s, well he's Frodo.  He and his parents are some of the few Bagginses I can stand to be around for any length of time."  Bilbo ran a hand through his hair before shrugging and pushing the cup around on the table absently.

"Do you ever plan on going back?" Fili asked, pulling on his braid again and looking away, uncomfortable with talking about family.

"I'd like to leave the possibility open," Bilbo replied, considering his memories of the Shire.  "It would be nice to see Mother again.  But Father and I parted on...harsh terms."

The corner of Fili's mouth twisted unhappily. "Why, what did you do?"

"I told him in no uncertain terms that I would be attending school over here and was informed that if that was the case I might as well stay here because I would not be entering the house again.  Well, there were a few other matters, my choice of field, his suspicions of me due to my reading materials when I was younger, things like that," Bilbo sighed.  "I've heard from him once since then, but the letter was short and folded into one from Mother."

"But he's still acknowledging you," Fili pointed out.

Bilbo nodded slightly, "He is still acknowledging me. I probably ought to write to him again."

"It would probably be best," Fili agreed and rose suddenly. "I need to go. You know, classes and such."

Bilbo watched him before rising as well, "And I should go get ready for work--I'm covering an earlier shift today.  It was good to see you, Fili."

Inclining his head, Fili touched the brim of his hat before leaving quickly, unsure if he felt better or worse. Waiting until Fili left, Bilbo sighed and paid for the coffee, pretty certain he was only more worried for having seen the other.

w-w-w

Faramir set the last place setting at the small table, having been cleaning the apartment in agitation since getting home from school.  He stepped back from the table and looked toward where Boromir was finishing up in the kitchen, "Can I help with anything?"

"If it's food, you can't touch it," Boromir said. "You can start carrying the dishes out though, just don't touch the food in them." He was still moving around the stove, frowning at the pot on top of it.

That earned him a long look from his brother, but Faramir nodded, grabbing something to set the dishes on and taking the finished ones to the table.  He glanced at the clock as he set the last of them down, "It's almost six."

"Some people think being early is impolite," Boromir replied. "It's fine. Or were you commenting on the food situation?"

"Both?  Neither? What if they can't find the apartment?"  He ran a hand over his hair, glancing toward the door.

"We don't really have a difficult apartment to find," Boromir replied. "It's labeled, it’s on a main street, and the paint isn't peeling off the door. And your directions, I assume are impeccable." He frowned at the stove top again, finally pulling the soup off. "I swear tonight feels like the one night the kitchen would catch on fire."

"Is, is it really that bad?"  Faramir glanced at his brother warily.

"Not yet," Boromir said. "But the oven may be on the verge of giving out. I'd really hoped to coax it through the rest of the year."

The younger brother paused at that, eying the oven with a new distaste, "Well, we've, we've got a little bit set aside and we could see about making payments rather than buy it all at once.  I'm sure we can get an offer that would allow that."

"Probably," Boromir agreed, not mentioning he'd been hoping more to take Faramir on a vacation on the next long weekend they had in an attempt to make him relax a little. "It's certainly not the end of the world."

He glanced at the door as a knock came, firm and loud through the wood. "See, it wasn't so hard for them to find."

Faramir looked at his brother for a moment longer, feeling like something was going unsaid, before going to answer the door.  He offered Eowyn and Eomer a smile, "Good evening.  Come in," he stepped back, holding the door for them.

Eomer stepped inside, his eyebrows rising slightly as he looked around, "Nice place."

Eowyn glanced around, sticking close to her brother's side as she surveyed the area, noticing the food already on the table before holding out the case of root beer she had picked up. "It seemed appropriate," she said.

Faramir accepted the case with another faint smile and a nod, "It's perfect.  I think Boromir's just getting the soup off the stove now."

She returned the smile, a little unsure about being in territory that so markedly belonged to Faramir instead of somewhere neutral. "I'm glad," she said, looking around again and pushing her hair back as Boromir strode from the kitchen.

"I'm glad you could make it," he beamed. "And that you had no trouble finding the place?"

"None," Eowyn assured.

Eomer offered Boromir a wide smile, "Thanks for having us.  This all smells delicious."

"Let's hope it tastes so then," Boromir grinned, retreating to prepare the last few dished before bringing them out.

Eowyn considered the place settings and the coats hanging by the doorway, caught between wanting to ask if they lived alone in surprise and not sure if such a question would be welcome. Eomer glanced around briefly, considering the fact that there didn't seem to be signs of anyone older in the entire place.  Faramir caught the direction of their gazes and shifted back on his heels very slightly, "Shall we sit down then?"

"If you would like," Eowyn said, glancing toward the kitchen. "Are you sure there's nothing we can help with?"

"Eowyn," her brother murmured, "I'm sure they've got it.  Let’s do as Faramir said and sit down."

She gave her brother a sideways look and the corners of her mouth quirked up, habit of taking care of her uncle and cousin hard to drop even among strangers. "Alright," she said, moving over to the table and pausing before sitting.

Eomer considered the place settings and settled next to his sister on her left, Faramir sticking his head into the kitchen to see if Boromir needed help and returning with another dish before taking the seat across from Eowyn.

Moments later, Boromir came out with the last plate. "I may have cooked too much," he frowned. "I hope everyone came hungry."

Eomer grinned, "I'm certainly not objecting."

 

Faramir glanced at his brother and resisted the urge to ask exactly how much of their food Boromir had cooked up. Glancing at his brother, Boromir grinned a shade sheepishly. Well, he supposed that answered that question.  He glanced towards Eomer as the other spoke again, "So, it's just the four of us then?"

"Yeah," Boromir said, expression shutting down instantly. "As the only people who live here yes."

Eomer blinked once, but didn't pursue that seeing how Faramir had tensed and turned his attention to dishing up some of the soup.  Glancing at his sister, Eomer nodded and looked back to Boromir, "I suppose that would make sense then."

Eowyn almost asked him how that made sense but she was busy wondering what had happened to their parents. To keep from asking, she began eating the soup, pausing in some surprise.

Faramir glanced up and caught her expression, smiling faintly, "You like it?"

"Yes, it is very good," she said, and glanced at Boromir. "Thank you very much. Though, I am still surprised you invited us both over."

"Well, it's easier to spy when you're at the same table," he said and she arched a brow. "Well, I have to vett you at some point, don't I?"

"Which you probably could have done without inviting me," Eomer pointed out.

Faramir shook his head, "It would have meant he was a third party on his own."

"Exactly," Boromir said. "And besides, sometimes it's through other people you learn the most about a person."

"That's almost conniving of you," Eowyn murmured and Boromir paused, seeming to seriously consider that.

"Maybe," he admitted. "Though it was certainly more about not ending up third wheel at my own dinner party." Once he seemed to realize how middle aged a dinner party sounded he winced.

Eomer paused at that, not sure entirely how he felt being there to provide a fourth and for that to be the primary reason, "And what are you hoping to learn, then?"

Faramir glanced at Eomer, considering him for a long moment and looking from him to Boromir and back as though trying to figure out an elusive calculation.

"Really," Boromir murmured. "You make it sound like I have an ulterior motive."

Something seemed to click into plae behind Faramir's eyes and his brows rose at that, "Well, you see how they interact with other people, with the people they care about, or with people they don't know very well.  It's never anything specific, and it's rarely intentional."

Eomer considered the younger teen for a moment before he looked back to Boromir, "We see each other around other people every day."

"In class, it's a different sort of situation than having dinner together," Faramir rejoined not mentioning how Boromir wouldn't be as attentive to necessarily learning about other people while at school.  His brother was incredibly loyal and supportive but school wasn't always the best place to get to know him better.

"It's a lovely dinner either way," Eowyn said, considering her brother and Boromir before meeting Faramir's eyes across the table and inching her brow up.

"It is," Eomer agreed, noticing but thinking nothing of the half shrug and nod that Faramir offered to Eowyn.  "It's very good, thank you for this."

"I'm glad you like it," Boromir said. "So," he said, shaking his shoulders slightly. "How is everyone enjoying classes then?"

"Well, there goes that as a topic of conversation," Boromir said. "Anyone have anything else?"

“What did you do over break?" Eomer offered.

"Nothing exciting," Boromir said. "Work, catch up on all the things I forgot to do before break. So, that was just about as boring as the classes conversation unless someone happened to actually do something."

"Sadly no," Eowyn said, shaking her head and pleased still with the food in front of her as she sampled the few dishes before settling on what to actually eat. "It was mostly work and taking care of our uncle."

Faramir shook his head slightly, considering the foods he'd put on his plate for a moment, "None of us are very good conversationalists, are we?"

"I certainly am not," Eowyn said.

"I like to think I can be," Boromir muttered. "Just not tonight apparently."

"We just haven't hit on a topic yet," Eomer replied with a shrug.  "After all, we had little enough trouble talking together last time it was us."

Boromir blinked, feeling like that statement meant something but he couldn't place it as Eowyn blinked over at him. "Oh? When was that?" she asked her brother.

Eomer blinked once, hesitating at that, "Sometime before break."

"Really," she said. "I am surprised I did not hear of this." Sipping from her soup spoon, she glanced over at Faramir again.

Faramir caught her eye as he spoke, "Was this the conversation that ended up with me compared to a rabbit?"

"Yeah," Boromir nodded, munching through one of the biscuits and considering. It was the first time he was trying Ori's recipe and he wasn't entirely sure they were quite as good as the one Frodo shared with him.

"So that would have been that night you and I had dinner," Faramir answered Eowyn, which earned a slightly sheepish look from Eomer.

"What?" Eowyn asked, looking over at her brother.

"I may have spent a bit of time at the coffee shop across the street, talking to Boromir," her brother offered, attempting to look contrite.

"Did you now," she drawled, giving him a long look before shaking her head slightly. "I'm surprised you beat me home if that's the case."

"I didn't stay for your whole date," he protested, leaving out the fact that he had left only when he had seen them calling for the check.

She glanced at Boromir to see if he would reveal if that was true or not to be greeted with no indication one way or another. "And you talked then?" she asked, testing the water.

Eomer nodded, "We did.  We had coffee and talked and then went our separate ways for the night."

Faramir glanced at his brother out of the corner of his eye before looking back to Eowyn, not saying anything he was thinking about that.

She almost asked them if they realized that was odd behavior for them and shrugged. "Well what did you talk about that was fascinating then?" she asked.

Her brother looked briefly trapped at that question before clearing his expression and answering honestly, "You two, cinema, a little bit of general life, it was a ranging conversation."

"Us two?" she repeated and Boromir busied himself with a knife and butter.

"Well," her brother looked sheepish, "I don't know Faramir and Boromir doesn't know you, so yes."  Faramir's eyebrow arched and he looked toward his brother before turning his attention to his soup.

"Your brother was acting suspicious so I had to explain Faramir is basically a cuddly animal unless you back him into a corner," Boromir said. "So he's a bunny rabbit, only your brother refused to believe he had enough spine for that."

Eowyn paused, blinking, before she ducked her head down to hide the smile. "He's proven he has more than enough spine since then, though," Eomer offered.

The look Faramir offered his brother was less than thrilled, "I'm cooking dinner for the next week, just so you know."

"I'll buy take out and foil your plot to kill me," Boromir rejoined quickly.

"You think that will stop me?  I'll find away around that road block," the younger brother replied with a hint of a smile

"You'd have to pay the rent by yourself, and there'd be the danger of cooking for yourself," Boromir said. "You'd have to trust yourself to Gandalf's cooking regularly."

Faramir seemed to seriously consider those options before sighing, "I suppose I'll have to leave you breathing then.  You make such a persuasive argument."

"The fact I feed you and pay rent?" Boromir said and laughed, shaking his head slightly.

"Are you a particularly cute forest animal?" Eowyn asked, tilting a brow at Faramir.

"I had never before considered myself one," Faramir admitted, dryly.  "But apparently that is the consensus."

"It's not a bad thing," she said softly, smiling over at him.

That garnered a bit of a smile from him, "Maybe not.  But still, a rabbit?  My brother is called upon to compare me to an animal and he chooses a rabbit."

"In my defense I was trying to put you in a good light," Boromir said. "You know, cuddly and kind of soft until called upon to defend something."

"When you say it like that, it's admirable," Eowyn said and paused. "If not particularly majestic."

"No, not particularly majestic, but better than it could be I suppose," Faramir agreed.

Eomer looked over at Boromir, "Do you have comparisons like that for other people?"

"Not usually," he shrugged as Eowyn opened one of the root beers, pausing before handing it to Faramir and opening another one.

Faramir murmured his thanks, accepting it and asking his brother, perhaps a hair spitefully, "What about Aragorn?"

Boromir gave his brother a long look. "I really couldn't say," he said instead with a shrug. Faramir nodded very slightly and took a drink of the root beer as he looked away from Boromir.

Looking between them, Eowyn sipped from the root beer as she considered. "I've seen you eating lunch with the new students from the Shire," she said. "It must be interesting to hear about a new place."

Boromir huffed out a laugh. "If they ever talked about anything other than food that is."

"Is that really all they talk about?"  Eomer asked, eyebrows rising slightly.

"There are a few other things, but the majority of the time--at least the youngest ones," Faramir answered.

Boromir laughed again, not thinking about the topic of conversation Frodo had raised between them the other day. "And you would not believe how much they eat in one sitting."

"A lot I would assume?" Eomer said with a bit of a smile.

"Apparently they're even constrained by what they can bring to school," Boromir said, shaking his head slightly. "I couldn't even imagine what that means for what they eat at home."

Faramir's eyebrows rose sharply, " _That's_ constrained?"

"Apparently," he said, shaking his head slightly. "For Pippin especially. He's the one who likes food the most."

"How long are they here for?" Eomer asked, raising his gaze to Boromir for a moment.

"Until the end of the year, as far as I know," Boromir said. "I think they showed up quite suddenly. Something about a tour to see the outside before they're expected to settle in the Shire?"

"Seems rather a well off group if their tour brought them over here," Eomer remarked.

Faramir shrugged slightly, "Perhaps.  They're staying with an older cousin I believe."

"Bilbo," Boromir said and glanced at Faramir. "They're living in Ori's apartment building actually."

Faramir blinked once at that, "Really?  I though Bilbo lived a few blocks away from there.  Or that was the impression I had at least."

"He apparently moved when they showed up," Boromir explained. "I was rather surprised myself by it. Though, you work with Bilbo, don't you?" he asked, trying to connect those people in his mind. "Maybe they met him at dinner, you said they often come?"

"Every Friday for the late shift, which is the one he works," Faramir agreed.  "So that's entirely probable."

Eowyn tilted her head. "Who comes to Gandalf's?"

"My friend Ori and his family.  HIs cousins, Gimli and Kili go to school with us."

"I believe I've met them," Eowyn said, never entirely sure how to react to Kili, but Gimli often made her laugh.

"I like Gimli," Boromir said.

Eomer thought for a moment, trying to place the names, "Isn't Gimli the one who was always picking fights with Legolas?"

Boromir laughed. "Yeah. They get into fights and usually end up rolling around the floor punching each other at some point." He paused. "They haven't been lately though."

"I wonder what changed?"  Eomer spoke again.

"It's hard to fight when you're not talking," Faramir responded, setting his knife and fork down and leaning back slightly in his chair.

"I would say that it's because they started to get along more," Boromir said. "Except that it certainly is not that."

"It' probably more their concern than ours, frankly," Faramir replied, shrugging very slightly.

Eomer glanced at him, "Well, do we have another topic that isn't our classmates?"

Eowyn glanced at her brother and shook her head slightly, covering her mouth as Boromir arched his brows. "But if we cannot gossip about others, whatever shall we talk about?"

Eomer's lips quirked upward very slightly, "Which was what I was saying, though not wording well."

Shaking her head again, Eowyn glanced between the two brothers. "I am surprised you live alone," she said, a comment that could be taken as a question or ignored if they so wished.

Faramir paused at that but shook his head very slightly, "It works well enough for us.  We make do with our jobs and school and the apartment's comfortable enough for two of us."

She glanced over at where Boromir's face had closed off entirely and nodded. "It looks very comfortable," she said.

"It is, and it's a good option for us," Faramir agreed.

Eomer glanced at his sister and then at the other two young men, "When did you find this place?"

"Last year," Boromir said and looked around the table before pushing himself to his feet. "I'll get dessert out."

Faramir got to his feet, picking up a couple of the nearly empty dinner serving dishes, "I'll give you a hand with that."

"No, sit," Boromir shooed him back down. "It's not that much."

His brother hesitated, but sat back down, placing the dishes back on the table, "If you're sure."

"Yes," Boromir said, lifting some of the other dishes.

"You did not have to make dessert," Eowyn protested softly and he smiled at her before disappearing into the kitchen.

Faramir smiled, shaking his head slightly, "It's what he likes to do--cooking and baking.  I figure it's best to leave him to it and not protest."

"I would never have guessed it from seeing him at school," Eowyn admitted.

"He manages to play quite a lot close to the chest," Faramir said, looking toward the kitchen.

"He mentioned it briefly last time, sort of," Eomer spoke quietly, earning him a surprised look from Faramir.

"But that's the thing," she said. "I wouldn't expect him to play things close to the chest either. It's... not a bad thing," she added. "I suppose just unexpected. But I'm starting to see more how the pair of you are actually brothers."

Faramir couldn't help but laugh quietly, "There are ways I'm more open than he is, but we make a good show of that not being true."

"A very good show," she agreed.

"Do I want to ask what we're showing?" Boromir asked, coming out with a chocolate layer cake, setting it in the middle of the table.

"How you manage to look like you don't play things close to your chest," Faramir answered.

Eomer blinked at the cake, "Good heavens, you've gone all out tonight, haven't you?"

Blinking at his brother, Boromir shook his head slightly. "This isn't actually all out. I just thought a little bit extra would be nice." Eowyn looked like she didn't believe him in the least, though her eyes lit up at the cake.

Faramir smiled a bit at that, "If he'd been going all out there would probably be more options for dessert, but as he chose to go with the chocolate cake you can be guaranteed one of his best desserts."

"And a few more courses," Boromir said, bringing the plates over and handing a piece to Eowyn first and then Eomer.

Eomer accepted the plate with a shocked grin, "You really don't stint when there's guests do you?"

"We don't get them very often," Faramir replied, taking a slice for himself and watching Eomer and Eowyn for their reactions to the cake

"Besides, it wouldn't be good manners to stint on the guests, would it?" Boromir said, well aware of what the bill from the date looked like.

Faramir offered his brother a long look at that but smiled, "No, it certainly wouldn't."

Emoer took a bite of the cake and paused, swallowing before he spoke, "This is amazing."

Grinning, Boromir watched Eowyn nod quickly in agreement. "I am completely surprised, how do you manage all of this?" Eomer asked, gaze on Boromir across the table.

Boromir laughed, eating his own cake happily. "I spent time on it, how else?" He would certainly not admit that he started cooking after school got out, shooing Faramir out of the kitchen several times.

Eomer chuckled, as Faramir admitted, "It's a bit of a necessity, I'm abysmal in the kitchen.”

"It's a survival thing," Boromir said and Eowyn's fingers twitched, wanting to ask again where their family was that they lived alone. She had never actually imagined them on their own with no one else and it disturbed her.

"After all, Faramir tends to light the kitchen on fire," Boromir added.

Faramir huffed at that, "I have not lit the kitchen on fire.  It was a dishtowel.  And it was _once_."

"Once was enough, dear brother," Boromir replied and Eowyn tried not to laugh at the idea of Faramir setting anything on fire.

"I put it out immediately," Faramir protested and Eomer tried to hide a smile but failed miserably at it.

"The damage was done," Boromir declared primly.

Faramir grimaced but glanced over at Eowyn, "And so, he cooks and I do the dishes."

"Except not tonight," Boromir said, as if daring his brother to disagree.

"What, but I--"  Faramir caught Boromir's look and nodded, "Right, except for tonight." Boromir grinned at him to acknowledge his victory.

"So I'll help you with the dishes then?" Eomer offered Boromir.

Turning the grin on Eomer, Boromir nodded. "If you'd like."

"Well, if you're doing dishes and Eowyn and Faramir are out here, I end up being the third wheel if I don't," he answered, smile in place, though something in his eyes belied it.

"And that would be a terrible fate, wouldn't it?" Boromir said, rising and starting to clear dishes.

Eomer rose as well, picking up some of the plates, "Worse than death even."

"I might not go that far," Boromir laughed.

"With these two?"  Eomer grinned, "You're probably right."

Faramir watched them disappear into the kitchen before looking back to Eowyn, "Shall we move away from the table to make it easier on them?"

"Let's," she agreed, shaking her head at her brother slightly.

He rose, moving over to the couch across the room, settling at one end of it.  There wasn't much else in the way of furniture beyond the dining room chairs, "Am I mis-reading their interactions?"

"At the moment I would say it is unlikely," she said, shaking her head slightly.

"Which means Boromir is," he let his head fall back against the back of the couch, "delightful."

"You sound like you think it will be a bad thing," she said, tilting her head slightly.

"No, no, you misunderstand me."  He sat up straight again, eyes widening very slightly, "Boromir doesn't think anything is happening between them.  Because my brother is blind to what's in front of him and has issues that at least equal my own."

"Well," she paused. "At least you admit you have issues. Isn't he the one who invited Eomer?"

Faramir pinched the bridge of his nose, "Yes, he is.  And they had coffee together, for almost the same amount of time that you and I had dinner.  But Boromir..."  He shook his head, "Maybe I'm being pessimistic and he'll prove me wrong."

"So it was almost the length of our date," she mused, rising from where she'd sat on the couch to consider some of the pictures hanging on the wall, tilting her head slightly.

Faramir nodded, watching as she moved, "They had coffee and talked and, from an outsider's view, look like they had their own impromptu date."

The corner of her mouth quirked upward. "I'm sure from their perspective it was anything but. However, that does certainly appear to have been the case." She stopped in front of the only framed image of what looked to be people or a family instead of artwork, considering the woman and two boys.

"And Boromir invited him over for dinner," Faramir sighed.  "What about Eomer, what do you think his take on this is?"  He saw what she was looking at and forced himself to stay seated rather than pull her away from the photograph.

She glanced back at him, question of if the woman was his mother dying and she stepped away. "I am unsure. He doesn't really express much interest either way generally."

"Well, perhaps they'll sort it out," he murmured, gaze darting toward the picture and away again.

"That is a lot of faith to have in them," she laughed softly, shaking her head and returning to the couch, though she did not want to sit still.

He laughed, "Maybe so, but one can hope."  His fingers tapped out an uneven rhythm on the arm of the couch.

"Most things about Boromir worry me," he admitted.  "He's done so much for me that sometimes I think he forgets to look for things for him.  I just," Faramir shrugged, "I want him to be happy, or at least somewhat content, and I don't think he is."

"You've built what looks like a safe home here though," she said. "And I don't think that should be under-estimated. And he seems to care a lot for you."

"It is and he does," Faramir agreed.  "It doesn't stop me wishing for more for him."

"And what about yourself?" she asked.

He blinked at her for a moment, trying to decipher that, "What do you mean?"

"You said you want him to be happier," she said. "For more for him. But what about you?"

"I have what I need."  He shrugged, "I would like to go to college after graduation, but we won't afford it, and I can make a decent living as a bookkeeper so it's not really a necessity."

She blinked at him in some surprise. "And that's all you want?"

"Mostly," he replied, knowing that at least one of the things he most wanted had no chance of happening.

She frowned, clearly unhappy with such an answer. "So you want more for other people and not yourself?"

"Is that so wrong?" Faramir asked, turning so his back was against the arm of the couch and one leg was pulled up onto the cushion.

She paused. "Not that you should not want more for other people, but to not desire things for yourself, yes, that is. Because it means you have nothing to fight for."

Resting his elbow on the back of the couch, Faramir shook his head, "I'm so tired of fighting for things, though."

"If you do not fight for things though," she said, tone quiet. "Then who would bother to fight for you?"

"I've been fighting, Eowyn, and I'll fight again, but I'm still tending to my wounds from the last battle," Faramir replied mutedly.  "I can see to the end of the school year but not very far beyond it at this point.  What would I want?  A high position in an accounting firm, someone I care about who cares about me, and a comfortable life where I can make my family proud."

For a long moment she considered him before she smiled faintly. "Alright. I can understand old scars. But do not give up fighting forever. There are still plenty of things that are worth it."

He managed a ghost of a smile, "I know there are.  It's not a permanent retreat, just a temporary withdrawal to regroup."

"Then I hope it works," she said, still watching him.

"It usually does," he answered and then paused.  "You've been wanting to ask something all evening, haven't you?"

The corners of her mouth twitched. "You've looked like you'd rather not answer."

He glanced toward the kitchen, "It...it's complicated."

"As much of life is," she agreed and folded her hands over her lap. "We live with our uncle because both our parents died when we were young. I love my uncle and my cousin deeply, but it is not the same." She looked around. "But at least I had an uncle and cousin. I could not have imagined living on our own. If you do not want to talk about it, tonight you do not have to. But for this to continue, I would have to find out at some point."

His gaze moved toward the kitchen again and he rose, "What do you say to a walk?  Just around the block."

"I would like that," she agreed, rising gracefully and adjusting her skirts slightly.

Faramir paused to stick his head into the kitchen and let Boromir and Eomer know they were going for a walk before he grabbed his coat from the rack by the door, "Shall we then?"

She nodded, pulling on her own long and rather plain brown coat over the pale blue dress she wore. "Yes."

He opened the door, holding it for her automatically and closing it behind them before starting down the stairs.  He remained quiet until they were outside, "My mother died when I was small, I've been told I'm a lot like her.  It's a difficult thing to be--compared to someone you barely remember."

"But at least it means you had a connection to her," Eowyn said, sliding her hands into the pockets of her coat.

"It might have been easier if I hadn't," he answered, pulling his coat tighter against the chill.  "I reminded Father perhaps a bit too much of her.  They loved each other a lot, I've heard."

Eowyn nodded, considering the streets around them. "Is it not good that she had that love?" she asked, unsure how exactly he meant the last comment.

"That, it was good.  It was good for both of them, but she was always weak, ill in my memory," he kept his gaze focused ahead.  "Apparently my birth was difficult.  She died a handful of years later and, well, Father never really recovered from that."

"What happened to your father?" Eowyn asked after a moment.

"He kept on with his career and doting on Boromir and anything else he considered of value in his life," Faramir said, wincing at how bitter that sounded.  "He's still active in city politics, though he's always had plans for greater things.  I think he's still hoping Boromir enters politics and surpasses him."

Eowyn could feel her jaw work but she didn't say anything about why they were not living with him. "I'm actually trying to imagine Boromir in politics."

"He'd be good at it, but it's not what he wants to do so far as I know," Faramir replied.  He glanced at her, "You didn't hear about what happened last year, did you."

"No?" she offered.

He fell silent, trying to figure out how to explain while at the same time not sure how willing he was to say it out loud.  Drawing a deep breath, he finally responded, "It managed to stay out of the papers somehow--probably Father's doing or a friend of his.  Boromir sued him for custody over me.  It, it was a long, drawn out, painful court battle and, well, here we are."

She actually stopped walking as she processed that. "He... he sued your father for custody?" she asked in shock, trying to process the idea.

Faramir paused where he'd taken another step and nodded very slightly, "Yes.  It was, well it was rather a mess."

"I can imagine," she said, stepping forward again and shaking her head slightly. "I am sorry you went through that."

"It wasn't easy, but it's been a good change," he replied quietly with a half shrug.

"I'm glad," she said as they came around the block. "If it is good then I am glad."

Faramir managed a ghost of a smile at that, "It is good.  Not always easy, but good."

"Was that woman in the photograph your mother?" she asked, pausing at the door.

He nodded, "It's the one picture we have of her.  I think Father must have taken it."

"She is very beautiful," Eowyn said. "As are you. But in your own ways." She moved quickly then toward the stairs, embarrassed by what she'd said.

Faramir blinked after her for a long moment, unable to believe he'd actually heard that before he followed her up to the apartment, "Thank, thank you."

She offered him a smile over her shoulder before opening the door and stepping back inside the apartment.

He entered behind her and hung up his jacket just as Eomer came out of the kitchen, "Did you two have a good walk?"

"Quite," she said, considering her brother's expression. "How was washing the dishes?"

Eomer paused for the briefest of moments before shrugging, "It was washing dishes."

The corners of her mouth twitched as Boromir appeared, still drying off his hands. "Thank you very much for dinner," she said, inclining her head. "But brother, we should return home."

Her brother nodded, "Yes, you're right."  He turned to Boromir, offering his hand, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Boromir said with an easy smile. "Feel free to come again sometime."

That gained a bright smile from Eomer, "Thanks.  See you around."

Faramir arched an eyebrow and glanced at Eowyn before clearing his expression and fully turning to her, "Thank you for coming tonight.  And for the walk."

"You're welcome," she said, with another faint smile. "Thank you for the invitation."

He smiled as Eomer pulled on his coat, "You're welcome.  I'll see you at school."

Eomer glanced at them and then back to Boromir, "Come on, Eowyn."

"Have a good night," Boromir said and Eowyn suppressed another smile as she glanced over at her brother as they reached the top of the stairs.

Eomer returned the glance, "What's that look for?"

"What do you think of them?" Eowyn asked instead.

"I like them.  They're good people," Eomer answered, trying not to think about the time spent with Boromir in the kitchen, the other's sleeves rolled up past his elbows to keep them from getting wet in the wash water.

"You seem to get along well with Boromir," she said, tone deceptively mild.

"He's nice.  And he cares about his brother, and his friends," her brother replied, "and he was nice enough to cook for us tonight."

“Is that all you can say after two nights in his company?" she asked.

He glanced at her, "You're fishing for something, Eowyn."

"Faramir did mention that you stayed the entirety of our date," she said with a shrug. "I'm simply curious." She paused before looking offended. "Besides, I do not fish."

"Gently prying then," he corrected.  "I," Eomer paused, "I like him, he's good to talk to, and enjoyable to spend time around."

"I am glad to hear it," she said, hands in her pockets again as they walked.

"What about you and Faramir?" He asked after a moment.

"I like him," she said and laughed when she realized she echoed her brother. "He is kind and does not seem..." she paused, not sure how to put it in words.

"Doesn't seem--?"  Eomer prompted quietly.

"Like he's use another soul for his own gain," she said.

A knowing look entered her brother's eyes and he nodded very slightly, "No, he doesn't seem like that at all.  They both seem very, genuine I suppose."

"It's an odd characteristic to find so much," she said, sounding distracted.

"It is.  Something else on your mind?"  He glanced at her as they reached their street.

"Yes," she said, still walking. "I just feel like I'm still missing something important."

"It'll come out in time," he opened the door to their townhouse, stepping inside and shrugging out of his coat.

"Yes," she agreed, shrugging out of her own coat and stepping into the kitchen where Theoden was sitting at the table with a case file in front of him and a cup of coffee at his elbow.

"You should not be drinking that so late," she said, sliding into the chair across from him and he looked up with a fond but tired smile.

"Probably not. But I need to concentrate. Did you have a good dinner?"

"It was very good," Eomer said.  "You're not going to be up too late, are you, Uncle?"

Theodon pushed the file away from him with a sigh. "I probably will be. But tell me more about this dinner. Who was it again?"

"Two brothers, Boromir and Faramir," she said and Theoden startled slightly as he recognized the names. "I actually wanted to ask you if you knew of them and the court case last year?"

Sighing again, Theoden nodded. "Of course, it was the talk of most of the law firms. I'm surprised it didn't get spread around more but Denethor is a famous man who wishes he was more, but he has the right connections."

"Court case?"  Eomer shot his sister a confused look as he sat down in one of the remaining chairs.  "What court case?"

Theoden leaned back, drinking more of the coffee as Eowyn leaned forward. "Their's," he said. "Boromir took his father to court for his brother's custody. He got himself declared an emancipated minor and got legal rights to his brother."

Eomer blinked at his uncle for a long moment at that, "This happened last year?"

Theoden nodded as Eowyn considered. "It was a mess. As I said, everyone related to the courts knew about it. It kept dragging on forever, because while I don't think Denethor cared about what happened to Faramir one way or the other really, he couldn't understand why Boromir was trying to get them both out."

Eomer sat silent as that sank in, feeling his temper spike, "Their _father_ didn't care what happened to his youngest son?"

"The entire case started because apparently Denethor locked him out of the house when they were having a fight. There was some other stuff about Denethor putting him in danger but apparently that, while Boromir was gone during the winter was the last straw," Theoden shrugged slightly. "Boromir said that if their father couldn't even protect his son but actively put him in danger than he should have no legal rights to either of them." He shook his head slightly as Eowyn folded her hands on the table. "He's been mad, and growing madder in the last few years."

"Why?" Eowyn asked, expression tightly controlled.

"I don't know," Theoden sighed. "He's always been a little too interested in things he shouldn't be, and a little off kilter. But nothing like this. When his wife was alive, she seemed to help balance and make him happy and she seemed willing to do a lot for him as much as he doted on her. But she never really adapted to city life either."

Eomer's jaw tensed at that, "So he neglected and endangered Faramir and then was surprised that Boromir did what he did? Mad or not does the man know his eldest so little?"

"From what I've seen?" Theoden offered. "He has an ideal version of what his oldest son should be."

"Because ideals are always of such benefit..." his nephew muttered.

"Very rarely," Theoden said, Eowyn still considering him closely.

"I suppose it explains some things Boromir has said but," he stopped himself before he swore.

"What sorts of things?" Eowyn asked, glancing over. "Because I know Faramir refused to talk of this where his brother could hear. I think he felt guilty about the whole thing."

"It was something that came up while you had your first date.  I mentioned he seemed the sort to give anything for his brother and he admitted he already had.  We didn't talk about it more than that, really," Eomer answered.

Theoden arched his brows at that and Eowyn huffed out a breath. "I still cannot believe you spied on our date."

"In my defense I wasn't the only one with that idea," Eomer offered.

"I'm not sure how Faramir feels about that, considering Boromir stuck around to be cheeky," she said. "But I can say I'm offended.

 Theoden hid his smile in his coffee cup. "I wasn't planning to stay for the whole thing, at least?" her brother tried.

"But Boromir was just so engaging and enthralling?" she offered.

He shot her a look at that, but shrugged, "Something like that."

She hummed as Theoden looked them both over. "But you had a good night at least?" he asked.

Eomer nodded, "yes, it was a good night."

"I'm glad," Theoden said, something sad in his eyes, thinking about Theodred still in the hospital.

"You should get some sleep," Eowyn said, shaking her head slightly.

Eomer nodded in agreement with his sister, "The files and cases will still be here in the morning."

"But I will not have gone over them," Theoden protested.

"Come," Eowyn commanded. "You'll do no one any good if you fall asleep in court tomorrow."

Sighing, he let her pull him to his feet. "If you come back out and keep working, I will know. Get some sleep."

"Alright, alright," he demurred finally, letting her shoo him off to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is brought to you by Dead Week, and the fact that if VS has to look at schoolwork anymore she will literally lose her mind. 
> 
> Extra long because there was literally nowhere to split it.


	19. Morally Speaking No One Has a High Ground

Draping himself over the back of Fili's chair, Kili frowned when he got shrugged off. "What is it?" he demanded, frowning as Fili hunched over the small desk the hotel had in the room, the chair torture on the back of whoever sat in it.

"I'm trying to get this done," Fili said. "Shouldn't you be doing your own schoolwork?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, Kili narrowed his eyes and watched his brother for a long moment. "You do realize that it entirely defeats the purpose of running away to be lovers if you refuse to touch me right?"

Fili startled, and slowly looked over his shoulder a shade guiltily. "What?"

"You've barely--" Kili started and bit himself off in frustration. "If you're that set on not touching me again we might as well go back and tell Thorin it was just a misunderstanding and we're over it because since we've moved into this hole, except to sleep, you've barely touched me. You've certainly not kissed me.”

The edges of Fili's mouth twitched, like he wanted to say something and thought better of it. "I'm sorry," he managed.

"Look, I know you're rattled," Kili said and Fili turned around fully in the chair. "And that it's scary because we don't know what we're doing but come on. I still need you. And if we're going to do this we gotta do it, right?"

Bowing his head for a moment, Fili lifted his eyes back up to Kili's face. "You're right," he agreed. "It's just--"

"--There's a lot to think about," Kili said and leaned down, feeling the thrill of victory when Fili kissed him back like his mind wasn't anywhere else. It was probably a little pathetic, he though, how happy it made him to lick inside Fili's mouth and have him press back, twining his hands through Kili's hair.

"I missed you," Kili said and Fili grinned, not bothering to say he'd been right there as he knew exactly what his brother meant.

"Sorry," he repeated, kissing Kili's nose and getting a put out expression. "But I do have to finish this assignment."

"But later?" Kili asked, running a hand over Fili's braids and brushing across the top of his spine.

Fili's mouth twitched again and he was about to lean up and kiss Kili again when a knock sounded as the door. Startling, they both whipped their heads to stare at it for a long moment. Fili motioned Kili back, though his brother promptly ignored him and they ended up at the door at the same time.

Holding his gun in one hand, Fili pushed the door open and leaned around to see who was on the other side, blinking in surprise when Ori stood there, arms wrapped around a bag and his brows raised.

"What?" Fili asked, feeling stupid when Ori just shook his head slightly and pushed his way into the hotel room, wincing in sympathy.

He turned back to Fili when the other shut the door, Kili's eyes wide. "Sorry, but you weren't actually all that hard to find. I mean, for me, since I've known you for how long now?"

"But--" Kili started to protest.

"And it helps being Ereborian," Ori said. "You just have to go to the first cheap hotel that's not far from our block and say hey, which room are the Ereborians in? And the first hotel had no idea what I was talking about but I got it right on the second try."

"Ori," Fili greeted, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "It's good to see you. But what're you doing here?"

Shrugging, Ori set the bag down on the bed and sat on the side of it, Kili warily taking up a position on the chair Fili had been sitting in. "I thought you two would probably need some company, or sympathy, or whatever. I brought tea."

Fili laughed, shaking his head and the line of Kili's shoulders started to relax. "Tea?" Fili asked.

"Of course tea," Ori said. "Doesn't that solve all the world's problems? Well, I also brought your knives because I thought you'd might like those back, and some money because the deal with Beorn has been going really well and we've gotten in on some of Azog's territory so we have a little to spare and I didn't think you'd have much at the moment. And some clothes, a few of your books. But yes, tea is the paramount thing that I brought."

Fili blinked once and looked over at Kili who looked even more surprised. "You..."

"Really know you too well for anyone's good," Ori said, smiling faintly. "I should have brought Gimli but he's been pouting on and off lately and I thought it best not to poke that wounded beast anymore."

"He's probably fighting with Legolas," Kili sighed.

Frowning, Fili looked over at his brother. "Aren't they always fighting?"

"Sure," Kili drawled and Ori's shoulders twitched.

"Ugh, actually, I think I'd like to not think about that. We have enough issues without Thranduil actually you know, hating us for seducing his son."

Shifting through the contents of the bag, Fili looked over at Ori. "How... how is everyone? I saw Bilbo at school but..."

Ori sighed, shaking his head slightly. "So you've been avoiding me but not him. Thank you for that. Everyone's mostly doing alright. Thorin's been more tight-lipped than normal about what happened and no one's really willing to step on his toes right now. As I said, things are starting to look up in some ways and down in others. You should be there."

"It's not that simple," Fili said, head down. "It's not--"

"I can guess what happened," Ori said quietly and both brother's whipped their heads around to stare at him. "And not, that's not just hyperlobe. I can honestly guess. I'm just going to remind you that the quiet ones are usually the ones watching, okay? And there's not a lot of quiet ones in that apartment building so you should be very afraid of what I probably know."

"I'm still not--" Kili started to protest.

"You two really have loved no one else your entire lives," Ori said and Kili jerked his shoulders backward in surprise. "It's not that hard. I mean, morally speaking no one has a high ground to lord it over."

Fili sank down on the edge of the bed, between Ori and where Kili sat, the bag braced on his lap. "Thorin--" 

"Probably still angry," Ori said softly. "I don't understand what goes through his mind. It's hypocritical. He's not talking to Bilbo either and they keep giving each other looks when they pass."

Fili sighed. "Bilbo knew."

Ori signed, bracing back on his elbows. "We deserve our own serial, you know? Some sensational literature or something, we'd make more money that way than with the rum runniing and we're currently making good stuff with that."

Kili laughed, shaking his head as Fili looked sideways over at Ori. "Do you think we should come back?"

"Yes," Ori said, not even hesitating. "I know it's going to be hard but yes. You're still our family and I think Thorin just needs time."

Fili looked down at his hands, still holding the bag. "We'll think about it," he said and Ori glanced over at Kili, noting the way he was looking at Fili and Ori nodded.

"When you're ready," he said. "Though if you plan on waiting that much longer you should get an apartment or something. I can't really see living out of a hotel room working that much longer."

"It's worked this long," Fili tried to protest and Ori just gave him a long look. "But alright."

"And don't avoid me at school," Ori commanded and Fili gave him a long look before laughing. "Alright, here's the tea," he said, digging it out and handing the thermos to Fili, who shook his head slightly.

“Alright,” he admitted. “I’ll try not to avoid you at school either.” He didn’t quite want to admit how much he’d missed the company of someone who understood, and it seemed that Ori had understood more than anyone had given him credit for.

-0-

Bilbo left the apartment earlier than usual for work, planning on actually stopping to try and speak with Thorin again on his way out.  He hesitated outside the other man's door for a long few minutes before he finally drew himself together enough to knock.

Opening the door, Thorin paused for a long moment. "Yes? Can I help you with anything?"

His intention to tell Thorin that he had seen Fili and that they were alright and then leave fled almost as soon as he set eyes on the other, "You know, my offer to leave you alone to think and reminder that you know where to find me was not a suggestion to avoid me for nearly two weeks."

Thorin paused along moment. "Wasn't it?"

BIlbo's grey eyes narrowed at that, "No, it damn well wasn't and you know it, too."

"You hid things from me," Thorin replied. "That matters."

"Well, you suddenly make it rather hard for me to tell you anything if I don't see you," came the sharp response.

Thorin stepped back, still watching him. "And before that?"

BIlbo glanced away, "It wasn't my place to tell you."

"It wasn't anyone's place," Thorin rumbled. "But I should have known before..."

"Before walking in on them.  But how was I supposed to tell you, Thorin?" Bilbo demanded, trying not to be as far on the offensive as he felt.

"I don't know," he snapped. "But Smaug knew. What would have happened if more people found out before me and used it against all of us?"

Bilbo flinched at that, "I...I don't know.  I'm sorry, Thorin.  I know, I know that doesn't mean much but I am."

Letting out a long breath, Thorin looked away. "This could become a danger to the whole family."

"How exactly?"  Bilbo asked, thinking he knew but needing it confirmed before he made assumptions.

"If the law found out?" Thorin asked. "Or someone who could blackmail us?"

Bilbo nodded very slightly, "Who would blackmail you, though?  Which still leaves the law, admittedly."

Thorin laughed, not sounding amused. "There are so many people who hate us in this city. It's dangerous enough to be different let alone like them. People in the streets hate us the question is not who would blackmail us, it is who _wouldn't_."

"Which implies that people find out," Bilbo responded, tensing.

"How could people not find out?" Thorin asked. " _Smaug_ knew!" he added, aware he still was incapable of wrapping his mind around such a fact.

"I don't, I don't know," Bilbo murmured. "But Smaug seems the sort to see something and assume the worst outcome, so long as that outcome is to someone else's detriment."

"And he could do us more damage with this than the fire," Thorin said quietly. "I can't protect us if I don't know the danger."

"You need to think of getting them back first, Thorin," the other suggested quietly.

Thorin grit his teeth and looked to the side. "I don't know where they are."

Bilbo hesitated, remembering his promise not to say anything specific. He set it aside before answering, "Fili was on campus a handful of days ago."

"What?" Thorin asked, eyes snapping over. "Was he alright?"

Bilbo hesitated, "Mostly, yes.  He was nervous, worried, but physically he's fine."

"And unwilling to come back?" Thorin asked.

That earned a very slight nod, Bilbo looking away, "I'm not sure he actually intended to run into anyone from here."

Thorin was already thinking about asking Dwalin to look for them. "But he was willing to talk to you?"

"He was.  Or, rather, he was willing to let me insist on it, which ended with the same result."

Thorin took a deep breath and nodded. "But they are truly fine?" he asked, voice soft.

"As far as I could determine, yes," Bilbo answered quietly.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Thorin nodded. "Thank you at least for that."

Bilbo nodded again, "Of course.  It's, I don't know if he is, but if Fili's on the college campus it's entirely possible that Kili's still at the High School."

"I could ask Gimli," Thorin agreed.

Bilbo glanced at the clock and then nodded, "Well, it's a possibility at least."

Taking another deep breath, Thorin looked like he was actively trying to push aside his own problems. "And... how are you?"

"Tired, missing you, trying to keep a rein on my cousins which is a full time job in and of itself," Bilbo offered a weak, wry smile.

Thorin swallowed and reached a hand out, hesitating before settling it on Bilbo's shoulders. "I've missed you too. It's just been..."

"Hard, and I kept things from you," Bilbo said, looking up at the other.  "I'm sorry I did that.  I want," he paused, "I want to be able to help you as much as I can, Thorin."

"I'm not very good at letting people help me," Thorin admitted.

"I've been noticing," Bilbo answered a faint smile gracing his features.

"It's not hard to notice," Thorin admitted. "I'm sorry for that."

"It's fine, just please try not to push me away further?"

"I'll try," Thorin said, not quite able to meet Bilbo's eyes. "I can't promise you anything though."

Biblo sighed softly, but nodded, "I understand."

"But it does not please you," Thorin supplied.

"I like to be able to help, and I hate seeing you hurting, so no it doesn't really please me.  But I will live with it."

"I'm still sorry," Thorin said, running a hand down Bilbo's cheek. "That it is so hard."

Leaning slightly into the touch, the younger man let his eyes close briefly, "It's alright Thorin."

"I still wish it was otherwise," Thorin said. "It's been a long time since I've tried to share this with anyone."

"We'll find a way to make it work," Bilbo insisted.

"I'm still surprised that you're willing to try," Thorin said, voice faint. "It's been years since I've met anyone like that."

"I've fallen and fallen hard," Bilbo answered.  "But so much more than that, you're worth trying."

"It's nice to hear," Thorin admitted, pulling him closer again. Bilbo moved with the motion, uncertain in his movements as he reached up to gently touch Thorin's cheek. "Are you sure you're alright with this?" Thorin asked.

"With what?  With us?  Yes."

"That was what I meant," he admitted.

Bilbo paused for the briefest of moments, "Are you?"

"Yes," he said after a beat. "But I fully expect you to not hide things from me."

Bilbo paused and then nodded, "Agreed."

"Thank you," Thorin said. "Have you eaten dinner yet?"

"Just.  I'm actually due on shift in about twenty minutes," he replied regretfully.

"I suppose it would be horrible for you to miss work," Thorin sighed.

"I might be convinced otherwise, but I'm not certain exactly what excuse to give Gandalf for why I wasn't there," Bilbo replied.

"You were feeling under the weather," Thorin offered. "I insisted you rest and take care of yourself."

Bilbo's lips curled upward at that, "And as long as I keep him away from my cousins, which through some miracle I have managed so far, that would hold up too."

"As I said, you were under the weather," Thorin said. "They might not even be able to say otherwise, if I keepyou here away from them."

That earned a brighter smile, "That's true."

Tracing his hands over Bilbo's hair, Thorin smiled faintly. "So, are you keeping me here, then?" Bilbo asked softly, leaning into the touch.

"If you wouldn't mind being kept," Thorin said. "I think we have some time to make up for."

Bilbo's smile was bright at that, "I don't mind in the least."

"Good," Thorin said, leaned down to finally seal their mouths together. Bilbo made a soft noise in the back of his throat as he pressed up into the kiss, his hands moving to rest on Thorin's shoulders.

"I'm glad you're willing to stay," Thorin said.

"I'm glad you're willing to let me," came the quiet reply.

"I did truly miss you."

"And I you.  I don't want to go through that again," he said mutedly, leanign against Thorin.

"Then let us try to avoid it," Thorin said, grinning before kissing him again.

-0-

Frodo glanced up from his book to check the time for the third time in the space of a half hour.  He frowned and finally set the volume aside as he rose.

Merry looked up from the puzzle he was doing, "What?"

"Bilbo's still not back.  He's late."

"He works later than this, though," Merry said, looking unconcerned.

"He said he had a shorter shift tonight," Frodo protested.

"Are you worried about him?" Sam asked from where he was eating through a bowl of oatmeal.

"I am," the dark-haired shireling admitted.  "He's never this late."  He crossed to where their cots hung and grabbed his, "I'm going to see if I can find him."

"Where are you going?" Pippin asked, poking his head up from where he was sprawled out on the ground with a book.

"The restaurant where he works.  It's not far from here," Frodo answered.

Merry sighed, "You're getting worked up over nothing.  I'll bet you that he simply stayed on for the whole of his usual shift."

"It seems a bit extreme to go all the way to the restaurant," Pippin added. "And you certainly shouldn't go alone."

"As I said, it's not that far.  Are any of you coming?  If not, I'll see if there's anyone else in the building who will," Frodo said, pulling his coat and shoes on.

"Sure, we'll come," Pippin said, springing to his feet. "I've been all but dying to go there since Bilbo said we couldn't."

Merry grinned and rolled to his feet, "Not as though there's really anything to do around here.  And we have an excuse at least, what with not hearing from Bilbo so we can't get in all that much trouble for it."

"If you're all going than I suppose I'll have to go," Sam said and rose slowly.

Frodo offered him a smile, "Oh come on, Sam, it won't be that bad.  Just out to check and see if he's there and right back home."

"Excepting it's never that simple," Sam said. "Something always comes up."

"Well, we'll just have to make certain nothing does come up," Frodo said matter-of-factly.

"And that's why I'm coming with you," Sam said and Pippin laughed. That garnered a laugh from Merry and a fond smile from Frodo.

Moments later they were out the door, with Pippin leading the way, chatting with Merry as they walked, and Sam bringing up the rear and constantly looking around. Frodo fell into step next to Sam, murmuring, "You're worrying probably mroe than you need to, you know."

"I'd rather worry than find out later I should have," Sam said. "And I certainly do not trust this city."

"Thank you for coming with us," Frodo said after a moment.  "I know you prefer the Shire."

"I'll always be home," Sam said. "But I couldn't let you go out alone," he added. "Not to say... Merry and Pippin are something totally different. I'd rather know you were safe myself that entrust you to them."

Frodo couldn't help but laugh, "I'm older than they are, most people would say that they'd been entrusted to me, not the other way around."

"True," Sam agreed. "Not to say you couldn't take the responsiblity! I'd just... rather you have someone else."

Something almost uncertain entered Frodo's eyes at that, "Thank you, Sam.  You're a wonderful friend."

"I'm not the ..." Sam started and blushed. "Anyway, I think Pippin's found the place."

Pulling his attention forcefully away from Sam's blush, Frodo turned in time to see his cousins step into the restaurant, "Oh, good."  He caught the door as Merry let it start to close and held it for Sam before entering as well.

Bringing up the rear, Sam frowned as he took in the low ceiling and the low light, the dark bar and furniture crowded together. Smoke swirled around the ceiling and the only thing missing was the clink of glasses full of beer and whiskey. "This is..." he started.

"Like a more dimly lit Green Dragon," Frodo said, though he wasn't certain he cared for how close the tables were.  It felt more claustrophobic than the pub back home.  "I’m beginnign to see why Bilbo was keeping us away."  He collared Pippin before the younger two could get out of reach, knowing that would keep Merry near as well.

"What?" Pippin protested. "Come on Frodo, it's like home!"

"Not quite, and we don't know the proprietor, Pippin," Frodo replied, eyes scanning for their older cousin. 

Merry shook his head, "You're worrying too much again."

"I'm worrying too," Sam said.

"You're always a wet blanket," Pippin protested as Gandalf approached, considering the four of them.

"Can I help you?"

Frodo handed Pippin off to Sam and took a half step forward, "We were looking for Bilbo.  Is he still here?"

"He hasn't actually been in yet tonight," Gandalf said, a twinkle in his eye. "I believe Thorin called a while ago, saying he was quite under the weather and needed to be fed soup."

Frodo stilled at that, frowning very slightly, "Did he indeed.  Kind of him to let us know."  Merry's brows had risen at that explanation, but he actually kept his mouth shut for once.

Gandalf shrugged. "Perhaps he was quite under the weather and Thorin needed to take complete care of him."

The oldest of the shirelings decided against voicing his doubts about how under the weather Bilbo actually was.  Though the mood Bilbo had been in and out of for the past couple of weeks finally made a bit more sense, "Perhaps so."  He considered the older man for a long moment before finally extending his hand, "Frodo Baggins."

"And I am Gandalf," he said, inclining his head and glancing around. "And from descriptions, I'm going to assume you are Sam, and Merry, and Pippin," he said, pointing to each in turn.

Merry offered him a grin at that, "Got it in one.  So, Bilbo's mentioned us?"

"Often," Gandalf said and Sam frowned slightly.

"It must have been his shock at finding us," Pippin laughed.

"And yet he still wouldn't let us meet you," Merry shook his head, still grinning a bit.

"Merry," Frodo murmured, a reprimand in his tone.

"I'm sure he considered me a bad influence," Gandalf asid.

"Well are you?" Sam asked.

"It's not like he'd tell us directly if he was," Merry said, pausing before looking back to Gandalf, "Would you?"

"Oh, I'm quite honest about being a horrible influence," Gandalf said. "After all, look at what I did to poor Bilbo."

Frodo finally had to suppress a smile, "I'm actually pretty certain you can't take all the credit for that."

"I introduced him to the Ereborians, it's only gone downhill from there," Gandalf sighed.

"How far downhill?" Frodo asked, cautiously.

"Well he's moved in with them," Gandalf said. "It's not too dire yet. I've led far more respectable people into disrepubale circumstances."

"So in other words, Bilbo has every right to be concerned regarding your influence?" Frodo clarified.

"In some ways," Gandalf shrugged. "May I help you tonight then?"

"Do you have food?" Pippin perked up.

"Pippin, we left with no money," Frodo reminded, shaking his head and glancing at Gandalf again.

"Oh please," Gandalf waved a hand. "If I cared about money I would take it out of Bilbo's pay, but frankly I couldn’t very well care less than I already do."

"You haven't seen Pippin eat," Merry replied brightly.

"I'm certain I can handle it," Gandalf said. "Besides, it's not like I deal with my own books."

Frodo's lips curled upward very slightly at that, "Oh, that's right, it's your books Faramir bemoans every few weeks."

"Do I tortue him so terribly?" Gandalf asked, ushering them to a table in the corner, away from his more disrepatable customers.

"I think there was less about torture to him and mroe about the difficulties getting the numbers to line up if you'd been within ten feet of them," Frodo answered, watching a couple of the people around them warily.

"Which is why I mostly leave them in the back and stay in the front."

"You have a solution for just about everything, don't you?" Frodo asked, sounding amused.

"I try," Gandalf said, entirely serious as another waiter appeared at his elbow to hand him menus. "Ah, yes, thank you. So, do you all know Faramir well then?" he asked.

"We've been eating lunch with him and Boromir," Merry answered. "But I don't know how well we really know him."

"He's rather quiet," Pippin added.

"Which isn't a bad thing," Frodo said, glancing at them.

"No," Pippin agreed. "But it makes it hard to get a handle on him." He was happily flipping through the menu, considering all the amazing new things he could try to eat. Much of the food was like what they had in the Shire, but different enough that he grinned at the possibilities.

"Exactly," Merry nodded firmly, backing Pippin up.  "He's nice, though, that much we know.  And he does your books."

"His brother's a bit louder," Pippin said. "Though I don't suppose I know him that well either." He waved a hand, not quite saying for all Boromir talked sometimes it did not seem like he had much to say about himself.

"He plays things cloer to the chest than one might think initially," Frodo murmured, thinking about his conversation with the other teen regarding Aragorn and Sam.

"You wouldn't expect it," Sam said and Gandalf just grinned at the four of them, pleased with someone that made Sam feel more suspicious of him.

Frodo looked at Sam, the corner of his lips twitching upward, "No, you wouldn't.  But again, not a bad thing."

"It's also those people that are the most interesting," Gandalf agreed. "So what would you like?"

"The fish and chips," Merry said decisively while Frodo opted for just a light salad.

Sam mumbled something about soup and Pippin asked for a steak and Gandalf's eyebrows shot up, but his eyes were still twinkling. Frodo covered his eyes and sighed, "Pippin..."

"It looks good," Pippin said and Gandalf laughed, gathering up the menus.

"It is not a problem, though a bit late for that much food."

"It's Pippin," Merry said by way of explanation.

"Which explains everything," Sam added under his breath and Pippin beamed at him.

"Well of course it does," Merry said with a nod.

“If you say it, then it must be so,” Gandalf said, grinning before he whisked away to gather their food.

Merry watched him go before looking back to the others around the table, "Well he seems nice."

"Nice enough on the surface," Sam muttered.

"I quite like him," Pippin said, looking around the room and leaning forward to see if he could get a better look at some of the other customers.

"That's because he's given you food," Sam said.

"He may not be all that bad," Frodo said, considering.  "Though he was rather willing to admit to being a poor influence, which is a bit concerning."

"I thought it made him charming," Pippin said. "At least he's honest."

"Or admitting that to conceal something else," Frodo responded.

"You're so distrusting," Pippin said. "You've been around Sam too much."

"And you're too trusting," Frodo offered Pippin a very slight frown.

"I think it's better to trust than to be personally scared all the time,” Pippin declared, glancing at Sam who narrowed his eyes back at him.

"I'm hardly scared all the time, but some caution is a good thing, Pippin,” Frodo said.

Pippin shrugged, still acting unconcerned. Frodo looked ready to say something else, but Merry cut in, "Oh leave off, Frodo.  We're having a late dinner and we're out of the apartment.  Let us enjoy it."

"I mean, how could you not enjoy food being given?" Pippin said.

"I didn't say I'm not enjoying that," Frodo protested.  "I'm just saying I'm not entirely sure I trust Gandalf or his intentions."

Pippin shrugged. "I'm not sure what intentions he could have that makes you so worried."

Frodo sighed, knowing it was useless to try to explain that he didn't like the way Gandalf looked like he knew more than he should when he mentioned Bilbo being out sick and Thorin taking care of him.  It wasn't a difficult puzzle to put together, but there was something protective curling within Frodo as regarded his elder cousin.

-0-

Pausing in front of the door, Dwalin took another breath before knocking. Dis had been quieter than usual since her sons left, and Dwalin wished he could figure out some way to cheer her or her brother up. There was a long moment of silence before motion could be heard and the door opened.  Dis looked at him for a long moment before opening the door a little wider, "Dwalin."

"I was wondering if you would like to go to dinner," he said, stance awkward, though it would have been hard to tell for most people.

She blinked, nearly ready to say no.  She quickly reconsidered, deciding it would be good, "I would like that, yes."

"I don't want to impose," he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You're never imposing.  When? If you mean for it to be now, I need to change," she said quietly.

"I would like it tonight," he said. "But only if you would like. Any other night would do just as well."

"Tonight is perfectly fine, Dwalin," Dis couldn't help but faintly smile.

"I'm glad," he said, watching her and almost trying to return the smile but opting to remain impassive instead.

"What time?"

He considered. "Six?" he offered, wishing for once he wore a watch to better time when they should leave.

"That sounds perfect," she answered.  "I'll meet you in the foyer at six?"

He nodded and stepped back. "I'll see you then."

"I'll see you then," she agreed, offering him a hint of a smile.

He retreated to wait by the door, arms folded across his chest as he watched the others move up and down, Dori and Nori fighting about something on the second story landing.

Dis changed quickly, pinning her long, thick hair up before descending to meet Dwalin.  She arched an eyebrow as she passed Dori and Nori, but ignored them as she reached the foyer, "Shall we be off?"

‘Yes," he said, tearing his gaze away from where he was listening to the arguement.

Dis started for the door, pausing once they were outside, "Do we know where we're going?"

"I hadn't decided yet," he admitted. "There's a nice American style resturant down near the college."

"That sound very good to me." She paused, "How have you been, Dwalin?"

"As well as one can be," he said finally. "With the boys gone and Thorin so quiet. I wish I knew how to make things better."

She dropped ehr gaze at that with a faitn sigh, "I'm not sure there is a way to make it better."

"No, there probably isn't," he said, glancing over at her.

"So Thorin hasn't spoken to you much?" Dis asked quietly, glancing up slightly.

"No," Dwalin said, shaking his head. "No one seems terribly inclined to talk to anyone at the moment."

"No, I'm afraid we aren't.  I'm sorry for that."

"Dori and Nori at least usually fight," he said. "How have you been holding up?"

"My sons are missing," she answered.  "So far less well than I could be."

"No one seems to know why they left," Dwalin said, trying to sound as neutral as he could. As much as he wanted to hear what she might know, such a conversation had not been his intention when he asked her to dinner.

She looked away again, "They had a fight with Thorin.  It was, it was a bad fight."

"What could they possibly fight about so badly they would run away?" Dwalin asked, sounding more idle than intrested in making her answer. "It seems so odd."

"I," she shook her head, pausing.  "I can't talk about it, Dwalin.  Not now."

He took a breath and nodded. "Alright. But if you do need someone to talk to about... anything,” he offered and wished he was better at making such assurances.

"Thank you," she glanced around, "It's just, not something to speak of in public.  Airing the family fights, I mean.”

"We don't have to be in public," he answered. "I offered to hear you out anytime.”

Dis' expression closed off, pausing again, "Nothing is to be repeated.  And I don't want you to think less of any of us, but I fear you may."

"I would never think less of you," Dwalin said, looking down. "How could I? Think about how much I have been through with both of you, with Thorin."

"You say that now," she murmured before turning to return to the building.  "Come, let's speak." He paused, almost saying they should eat first before he turned and followed her.

They reached the building and Dis headed up the stairs swiftly, Dwalin following but frowning at the face space., The pair of them did not say a word to anyone until they reached her apartment.  She opened the door and held it for him, "Come in."

He stopped on the doorstep before entering. Closing the door behind him she motioned to the chairs she had, leaning against the door and watching him for a long moment.

"You seem to have done well witht he new apartment," he said. "It looks homey enough."

"It's rather empty with just me here," she replied. "Even if Kili was spending more time at," she stumbled over her words briefly, "Fili's than at home in the old building, I still miss haivng one of them around at the least."

"The entire building feels emptier," Dwalin admitted.

"I'm, I'm not even sure that they'll come back.  We've no way to reach them, no idea where they are."

"I checked with the registar office," Dwalin said. "Fili has not dropped his classes and he is attending. I... have not wished to push the issue and track him down on campus but I could if I needed to."

Dis paused, but shook her head, "If they wish to come back they will.  I don't want them forced to come back if they don't feel safe."

"But if we needed to check on them," Dwalin said. “Not all doors are shut yet between us and your sons.”

"Then, then it might not be a bad idea.  But, it might also send him running.  I just, I don't know,” she leaned more heavily against the door, sighing.

"What can I do to help?" Dwalin asked, not usually giving such blanket offers.

"Remind me that I have no right to blame my brother for my sons' actions."

Dwalin arched his brows slightly. "What do you mean?"

She closed her eyes and drew a steadying breath, "I mean that the reason they left was because Thorin walked in on them.  Kissing."

"That's not your brother's fault," he said, the first automatic reaction he could come up with.

Her eyes opened, cold, "Part of me knows that, but isn't it?"

"He hasn't had a lover since they were children," Dwalin protested. "He's never been obvious about it either. How could they pick anything up from him? And it..." he folded his arms again and sighed.

"I know all of this.  Mentally, I know it.  But my _sons_ , Dwalin."

"You can't blame Thorin," Dwalin said. "Not if you want to retain any sense of family. It's bad enough, isn't it?"

"I'm not trying to blame him, Dwalin, I'm just, I'm not sure what to do.  I don't think I blame him, but then I feel like I do and I, I just..."

Dwalin rose to his feet, reaching a hand out to rest it on her shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said.

She sighed, leaning into the touch very slightly, "I just don't know what to do."

"There's not much you can do," Dwalin said. For a moment he didn’t say anything else, feeling the heat of her through his hand on her shoulder. Finally, he broke from his thoughts to look down. "If they did come back, would you accept them?"

"I, I want to say yes, but I don't know."

"It's hard," he said, the full fact of what she’d told him still not sinking all the way in. "But... if you want your sons back..."

She drew a steadying breath and nodded, "They're my sons.  I don't, I don't know what to do about this but I love them nevertheless."

"Then all you'll have to accept them again."

"And I'm sure I will, I just don't know because I don't have the option right now."

"We can find them," Dwalin assured, moving his hand on her shoulder up and down in a soothing motion. "If we must. But they have to know they can come back first. Are you and Thorin the only ones who know?"

"Yes, as far as I know.  I've told no one else," Dis murmured, drawing another steadying breath.

Dwalin nodded, considering. "If Thorin and you can accept them, then the others do not have to know," he said, coming to a decision he was sure Thorin would agree with.

"I only hope it stays as simple, or unsimple, as that," she murmured in response, but nodded very slgihtly.

"It might," he offered. "At least we can run damage control."

Dis froze as she remembered soemthing else her brother had said, "Smaug knows.  Damage control may not be possible."

Dwalin considered. "He hasn't gone to the police yet."

"No, but the fact that he knows may be enough in and of itself."

Sighing, Dwalin nodded. "But we'll know, if he does, and we can fight it when he does.”

Dis nodded after a moment, "I wish I knew where and how they were."

"We could find them," Dwalin assured her again. "Even just to check."

"Thank you," Dis murmured.  "I think, I think I will be able to keep from that need for, for a time yet."

"Let me know," he offered. "If you need anything." It was the second time he had given her a blanket offer of his help.

"I will.  Thank you, Dwalin."

"Not quite the evening I had planned," Dwalin admitted.

She offered him a faint smile, "Well, what do you say to staying in for dinner?  It shouldn't take too long to make something."

"Only if you wouldn't mind," he said. "I'm not a very good cook, aside from field rations."

"I don't mind at all," she replied, starting for the kitchen.

Dwalin smiled as he followed her. "I can boil water at least."

"And chop vegetables?" Dis asked, offering him a smile over her shoulder.

"Perhaps," he agreed. "They may not be very neat though."

"They don't need to be neat," she promised, pulling out the ingerdients for shepherd's pie and the dishes she would need.

"Then there should not be a problem."

They spent the next hour preparing dinner, chatting amiably about classes and Dis’ work, and what the family might do with relative prosperity that was being bought with Beorn’s aid. Later, with a full stomach and a sense of contentment, Dwalin took the stairs up to his own apartment, stopping in front of Thorin’s door and considering.

As well as the evening had gone, he had not intended much of what had happened, and felt like much was still odd between them, even though she accepted his desire to make advances.

But much more than that, he had never been so worried for Fili and Kili since he had returned from the war to discover the boys having grown into beings with minds of their own. And it had been many years since he worried so for Thorin.

Resting his hand on Thorin’s door, he quietly promised to do as much to help them all as he could, before sliding into his own apartment to rest.

Because who knew what the next several days might bring. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your management apologizes profoundly for the two month break between chapters. 
> 
> It's been a hell of a summer, and we often would write a scene, get frustrated, start it over, remain frustrated, try working on something else, try the next scene, and repeat the process several times over. Hopefully we've got this sorted out since then and the next chapter should not take nearly as much time (nor overwhelming frustration!)


	20. Seriously Consider the Merits of It

The lunch room was bustling full of students, the start of the period rush for the food in full swing. Sitting next to Arwen, Aragorn considered the room, seeing Kili and Gimli eying each other and Legolas not looking at where Gimli was.

"Do you ever wonder if we're standing on a disaster zone?" he asked, holding her hand under the table.

"I don't wonder.  I'm certain of it," she answered, watching as Gimli ignored Legolas just as much as Legolas ignored him.  "I figure it's just best if we keep projectiles away from them and do so without them realizing it."

"They do seem to do enough physical damage enough as it is," Aragorn said. "Besides, I think your father already wants to pull you out of this school and send you to private one, if he could afford it."

"He's wanted to do that for years.  I think we've finally agreed that I can stay here, since I'm so close to graduation," Arwen replied.  "But we'll probably have the conversation at least once more."

"There's five more months," Aragorn said. "A lot could happen in those months. Did he ever pester your brothers like this?"

"No.  But they presented a united front, and probably reminded him less of Mother," Arwen answered, shaking her head.  "Though I remember a couple of fights over whether they would stay in this school as well."

The corners of Aragorn's mouth twitched up, and he looked over at her, leaning a shade closer. "They do tend to have a princely air around them that convinces everyone else to agree with them. But you've stayed this long, so you must have the same ability."

She smiled at that, tilting her head very slightly, "Perhaps so.  I think Father has himself to blame for that."

"Raising such strong willed children?" Aragorn said, his attention now on her rather than the going ons of the rest of the student body.

"That and teaching us a certain level of imperiousness, and more tenacity than he might like us to have," she replied.  "But as often as we come to odds, I wouldn't change him, and I like to think he wouldn't change me or my choices."

"No, but he'll vocally disagree with them," Aragorn said, still smiling. "Loudly, and sometimes where I can hear him."

Arwen shook her head very slightly, "No matter what he says he does like you."

"Of course," Aragorn laughed. "If you say so than it must be true."

"He's even starting to come around to the idea of us.  I think the fact that we've been seeing each other for so long has something to do with it.  And my brothers like you, which is two very stubborn votes in your favor."

“I like having stubborn votes," Aragorn said, and looked at Arwen like he still couldn't believe she was there. "But yours is certainly the most important."

"And you've had that since well before we started dating," she assured him with a gentle smile.

He leaned over, kissing the knuckle of her hand that he still held. "I don't recall knowing you all that long before we started dating."

"You didn't," she answered with a quiet laugh, her expression fond.

"You're acting like you knew me before I knew you," Aragorn said, still smiling as they leaned together. "I recall your brothers, I suppose they talked?"

"Elladan and Elrohir do nothing but talk, you should know this by now."

"They occasionally brawl as well," Aragorn said. "But your father doesn't know much about that, last time I checked."

Arwen laughed, "No, he does not.  They're happy that way and knowing about it gives me a bargaining chip."

Aragorn grinned again, trying and only barely suppressing his laugh. "And you enjoy having bargaining chips."

"I do.  I'm extremely put out that Thranduil knows about Legolas.  I've lost my negotiating ability there," she replied.

Aragorn bit his bottom lip as he watched her. "That would make negotiations difficult, and you don't know Gimli's father nearly so well."

"No, not nearly so well.  I doubt they'd believe that threat.  So I suppose I shall have to find something else," her lips curled upward.  "It's Legolas, he'll do _something_."

"He often does," Aragorn agreed. "And unlike you and your brothers, he has never mastered hiding so well."

"Exactly," she looked toward her cousin and shook her head again before turning back to Aragorn.  "Do you have work after school today?"

"Yes," he said, sighing. "But I get off early today, if you can get out of the house later."

She nodded, "Father's got his evening class tonight, so I can easily do that."

"Good," he said, leaning over to kiss her cheek, aware they were still were others could see them.

Arwen reached up to touch his cheek briefly, "Where should we meet tonight, then?"

"Where would you like?" he asked. "Anywhere close to work would be good, and I can get you home tonight."

"There's the cafe a couple of blocks from where you work.  We could meet there?" she offered.

"Yes," he agreed, their heads still bowed together.

"What time are you off?" she murmured, leaning a hair closer.

"Eight," he said. "We could go dancing after the cafe. Most bands won't even start up until then."

She smiled brightly at that, "I would love to do that.  It sounds like a wonderful plan."

"I'm glad you agree," he said, brushing a hand over her hair. Several tables away, Boromir did not even realize he was staring.

Eomer broke off in the middle of what he was saying when he realized he had completely lost Boromir's attention to somewhere else.  He half turned to follow the other's gaze, stilling when he saw Arwen lean very slightly into the touch.  He turned back to Boromir, his expression starting to close off.

"What?" Boromir said, seeming to snap out of whatever he was thinking and Pippin turned around in his seat to see what Boromir had been staring at. "I'm sorry, you were saying something?"

Eomer shook his head, "No, nothing important."  He glanced toward the clock, "Actually I should head out, I wanted to talk to my teacher before class." 

Faramir frowned very slightly, glancing from Eomer to Boromir and then toward where Aragorn and Arwen were.

"If you're quite certain," Boromir said, though he looked confused and Eowyn frowned at her brother, folding her hands on the table in front of her. Pippin was still trying to discover what had caught Boromir's attention.

Eomer nodded, pushing back from the table and getting to his feet, "Yes, I'll see you around."  The motion drew Frodo's attention from where he'd been talking with Sam but he kept quiet, simply kicking Pippin lightly under the table to draw his attention back to lunch rather than staring around the cafeteria.

"What?" Pippin asked, pouting at Frodo.

"Stop staring," Frodo replied softly, having found Aragorn and Arwen and looked away before Pippin could get a lock on them as well.

"I'm not staring, I'm searching," Pippin said and Boromir turned his frown from where Eomer had gone to Pippin.

"Faramir," Eowyn said after a beat. "Would you like to take a walk before classes? I'd like to stretch my legs before sitting for the afternoon."

Faramir nodded quickly, rising and resting a hand on his brother's shoulder briefly, "I'll see you after class, Boromir."

"Have a good afternoon," Boromir offered.

Rising gracefully, Eowyn smoothed down her skirt before giving Faramir a faint smile and turning.

Faramir fell into step beside her, leaving his brother with the Shirelings.  He glanced at her once they were out of the cafeteria and away from other people, "Boromir's not going to understand why Eomer left."

“I was hopeful you weren't going to say that," she said, glancing slightly over at his arm, as if considering reaching out like she'd seen Arwen and Aragorn leaning against each other.

"I ever live in hope that my brother will come to the realization that people care about him, but he still hasn't.  He has more issues in that area than I do, he just covers them," he said, considering for a moment and then offering her his arm with no small amount of uncertainty.

She obviously hesitated again, before gently placing her hand there, unsure about the intimacy such a touch implied. "Truly? Not that I do not believe you, but he surrounds himself with people, and charms them easily enough."

"He still can't figure out why the Shirelings like him.  I gave him a list of reasons.  I _wrote_ him a list of reasons and posted it on the mirror where he would see it.  He still thinks I made half of them up," Faramir answered with a sigh.  "He won't understand the idea that your brother could be jealous."

"Jealousy is not an attractive emotion," she said after a beat. "But Aragorn is adored by many."

Faramir glanced at her, "He has a presence that causes some form of adoration or loyalty in most people he meets, yes."

"It is easy to mistake that admiration," Eowyn said after a beat. "Loving a dream is not the same as a person who cares for you and keeps you warm on cold winter days."

"You sound like you're speaking from experience," he remarked as more of a simple observation than anything.

"I am, to an extent," she said. "Perhaps I am misjudging your brother's feelings for comparing them to my own. But it is easier..." she trailed off. "It is easy to love a dream that you don't have to deal with in the everyday world. But there's not much return in that either."

Faramir weighed her words before nodding, "I think I see what you're saying. If it's a dream or an ideal, there isn't as much return, but it's not the same risk either.  Am I understanding?"

"Yes," she said. "You don't have to worry about insulting someone in your dreams, or whether you're making a mistake and leaving yourself open to being hurt." She stopped, looking over at him and not dropping her arm. "Aragorn is a wonderful dream to love. But not heaven or earth could move him from Arwen."

He nodded very slightly again, glancing at her, "No, it couldn't.  But a good dream.  I just worry that Boromir has spent too much time in the safety of loving from afar to risk the pain that could come from attempting to love a reality."

"Considering," she started and stopped, changing tracks. "From what you have told me of your father I cannot say I blame him much for it."

"Nor can I," he admitted quietly.  "I just want to see him happy, though."

"But being happy requires risks," she said, tilting her head back to meet his eyes. "And that's very hard to do."

"It is," Faramir agreed, stopping and looking down at her.  "But those risks can be worth it in the end."

"They had better be," she said, slowly arching a brow and for the first time she sounded like she was teasing him.

He smiled at that, "They are."  Faramir paused for a moment before reaching up and tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

She almost shied away, ready to declare that was quite enough touching for one day but stood her ground. "Good," she said but her voice had dropped.

He drew his hand back and inclined his head, uncertain where some lines were with them, "Will Eomer be alright?"

"I hope so," she said, still not quite shrinking back. "Though if you feel like scolding your brother, it may benefit them both."

"I was intending to do so, I assure you.  Gently of course," Faramir said, watching her responses.

"Of course," she agreed. "Or you could explain the situation to Pippin and Merry and point them toward your brother."

He covered his eyes at that, biting back a laugh, "Oh God.  I think I love Boromir just a little too much to do that."

"Well, when he gets to be too frustrating," she said, before linking their arms together again.

Faramir almost startled at that, having not expected her to reinitiate contact, "Then I shall seriously consider the merits of it."

"It may even be good for him," she said. "Come, we should go to class. Do you think it is worth it for me to try and reassure Eomer?"

Farmir considered for a long moment and then sighed and shook his head, "I hate to say it, but there's not much to reassure him of yet.  Boromir doesn't think there's anything to see or understand from what I've last heard."

"You could point out to Boromir they've been on two dates," she said. "That we know of that is."

"I will try that method.  He will argue that they weren't dates, and if he argues that for too long I'll set his Shirelings on him," Farmir decided.  "If you think it wise, or possible, then yes reassure Eomer.  I'll try talking to my brother."

"I will see what can be said," she stopped at the hallway where they would turn for their classes. "Would you like to go to dinner, this week? And perhaps not tell our brothers were we are going?"

"I would love to," he replied, offering her a smile.

"Good," she said, finally dropping her arm from his. "Then I will see you tomorrow and we can discuss it."

"Have a good day, Eowyn.  I'll see you tomorrow," he said with another smile. Ducking her head, she bid him farewell for the afternoon. When she walked away, she felt like her hips were swaying more but dismissed such a notion as her imagination.

-0-

Ori looked up from where he was playing checked with Bifur, watching Bofur come in the door. "Have you been sleeping at all?" he asked before he could get his filter in place.

Bofur startled slightly at that, blinking at Ori as he processed the question, "Yes?  I get sleep every night."

"You sure don't look like it," Ori said and Bifur laughed into his black and white beard, agreeing more obviously with Ori than with his cousin.

Bofur crossed the foyer to consider the checkers board.  He glanced at Ori, offering a bit of a smile, "Don't I?  I've been getting some sleep every night."  Though admittedly his shoulder had been protesting sleeping on the couch more than it had before he'd been shot.

"Some sleep does not sound like a lot of sleep," Ori said, carefully quirking a brow up and clearing out Bifur's remaining pieces.

"I've been gettin' _enough_ sleep, then," Bofur offered.

"Uh-huh," Ori said, grinning at Bofur before rising and linking an arm through Bofur's.

Bofur startled slightly at that, but returned the grin, "You don't believe me at all, do you?"

"Not in the least," Ori said. "Something to do with the bags under your eyes."

"They're not as bad as all that."  He glanced at Bifur briefly, "Are they?"

Bifur just nodded at him. "See, I have Bifur on my side. I win."

Bofur shook his head, chuckling, "Alright, well I suppose in that case you do."

"Come on," Ori said, ushering Bofur up the stairs. It still felt odd to pass the door that was Fili and Kili's and have silence on the other side.

Bofur glanced at that door, but headed up the next flight until they reached his apartment.  he opened the door and glanced at Ori, "Would you like to come in?"

"If you wouldn't mind," Ori said. "I don't want to impose but you look like you could use some relaxation."

That earned a long blink, but Bofur didn't comment beyond answering, "I don't mind at all."  He stepped in, holding the door for the younger man.

"Thank you," Ori said, slipping in and taking a look around. "You've been sleeping on the couch, haven't you?"

Bofur closed the door with a quiet sigh, "I've told you before, I don't like sleeping in the bed."

"It's better for you," Ori said, brushing a hand over Bofur's shoulder.

"Maybe, but I'm not used to it," he answered, reaching up to catch Ori's hand.

"It'd still be better," Ori said. "Especially with your shoulder."

"I'm doing fine, Ori," Bofur protested.

"Uh-huh," Ori said again, reaching both hands up to brush under Bofur's eyes.

Letting his eyes fall closed, Bofur drew a deep breath, "You're just not believing much of anything I say t'night are you?"

"I'd believe more if it was true," Ori offered.

"I sleep worse in the bed," Bofur protested, though considering the last few nights he wasn't entirely sure he believed that himself.

"Let me give you tea and put you to bed and we can test that out," Ori said. "I've been fussed over enough I'm quite certain I can recreate the proper motions."

That earned a chuckle, "If you insist."

"I'm rather feeling the need to," Ori nodded. "Sit down at least."

Bofur offered him a smile and nodded, stepping back and settling on the couch, "Alright, I suppose I can do that after all."

"Have you eaten?" Ori asked, walking into Bofur's kitchen and tutting at the state of it.

"Not yet," Bofur said, starting to rise again, "You want a hand?"

"If I known about this, I would have ordered food," Ori said, poking into a cupboard. "Do you even own spices?"

"Don't make much use of them," Bofur answered, smiling fondly as he did rise and move to lean against the kitchen doorframe.

"Tragic," Ori said, clicking his tongue again. "I think I can make something though, without having to go and raid my brother's closet."

Bofur laughed at that, "If you're sure you can do without spices."

"Just this once," Ori said. "But then I'll probably have to buy you some at the very least."

"You're planning on cooking for me again?" Bofur sounded surprised, though he knew he shouldn't be.

Ori paused and looked over his shoulder. "Did you expect me to not?"

"Well, no, I mean yes, I mean," Bofur trailed off and shrugged.  "Maybe?"

Considering him a long moment, Ori shook his head slightly. "Well, I can't say I'm the greatest cook but I do know what's supposed to go where."

"Well, I don't even own spices, so that probably says something about my own cooking," Bofur returned with a smile.

"That it is bland and needs something to well... spice it up?" Ori said with a quiet smirk.

Bofur chuckled, "Something like that.  I never know which ones to use, so I figure it's better to go without."

Ori glanced at him sideways. "That's a dangerous philosophy to have for life."

"I don't apply it to everything, just cooking and spices," Bofur answered quickly.

"You sure?" Ori asked, humming to himself as he turned to what he was cooking.

"Yes?  Do you doubt that too?" Bofur asked, frowning very slightly.

"I don't know," Ori said, tilting his head again. "Would you like to prove that it's not true?"

"How would you suggest I do that?"

"I don't know yet," Ori admitted. "But I'm really looking forward to what you decide to do."

Bofur couldn't help but laugh again as he stepped into the small kitchen, "Then I guess I should figure that out and prove it to you."

"As I said, I look forward to it," Ori said, leaning back slightly as Bofur approached.

The other paused, offering him another grin before glancing around the space, "Would you like a hand with dinner?"

"I thought the point was fussing over you," Ori grinned. "But you're welcome to if you'd like."

"Well, that was your point.  I haven't seen much of you since your classes started up again, and I don't sit still very well anyhow."  Bofur reached up to brush a hand over one of Ori's braids before pulling back again, "So, yes, I'd like to help."

"Alright," Ori smiled, tilting his head back and handing Bofur a wooden spoon. "Stir then."

Bofur accepted the spoon, offering Ori as sweeping a bow as he could in the confined space before he turned to do as instructed. Ori returned to humming as he cooked, occasionally asking Bofur to do something and he soon enough had lasagna in the stove. "There. Next time there should be spices."

Bofur inclined his head, smiling, "Then we'll see about having spices next time."  He paused before looping an arm around Ori's waist and drawing him closer, "Thank you."

"Never thank the cook before the meal," Ori laughed but he pressed closer and twined his arms around his waist.

That garnered a laugh as Bofur leaned down to rest his forehead against Ori's, "I'll try to remember that wisdom."

"When you like the food, you can try that again," Ori laughed, tilting his head back to ask for a kiss without pressing for it.

Bofur smiled before obligingly sliding their mouths together, drawing Ori ever so slightly closer.

Making a muffled sound, Ori leaned up on his toes, content to spend the time until the timer went off kissing Bofur. Bofur leaned down to make the angle easier on the other, one hand tracing up Ori's spine, while the other braced against the small of his back to keep him balanced.

Humming into the kiss, Ori twined his fingers through Bofur's braids. "I can redo these too later."

"I'd appreciate that," Bofur murmured.

"See? You could learn to enjoy being fussed over."

Bofur grinned at him, brushing a hand over his cheek, "I think I could at that.  Never thought I'd say that."

"Good," Ori smirked, tilting his chin to lean back up and seal their mouths together.

The lasagna was soon done and was a hearty meal, though Ori was right in that it needed more spices.  The two of them settled on the couch after dinner, Bofur reclined with his head in Ori's lap.

Ori's fingers were working in Bofur's hair, undoing the braids and then slowly starting to redo them, careful about the uptilt. Eyes drifting shut as he focused on Ori's touch, Bofur hummed, "So which spices should I pick up next time I go for groceries?"

"Cinnamon," he said. "Clover, basil. You have salt and pepper but those hardly count." He considered, leaning his neck back.

That earned a quiet chuckle, "I'll see about finding those then."

"Probably some others," he murmured, paying more attention to Bofur's hair than spices.

"If you think of them let me know," Bofur spoke absently, opening his eyes to glance up at Ori.

"I will," Ori said, tying off the braid. "There, that's done."

"I could get used to being fussed over," Bofur murmured, reaching up to trace his thumb over Ori's cheekbone.

"Good," Ori grinned down at him. "Because I've years of pent up fussing."

That earned a laugh which was cut off as Bofur covered his mouth to hide a yawn, "Haven't been so relaxed in a while."

"Good," Ori said and shooed him up. "Then you should go to bed."

Bofur rose and stretched, grimacing very slightly as his shoulder protested, "We've been over this."

"You don't like beds, I know," Ori said, still manhandling him up. "But you slept really well there the night I accidently fell asleep while reading."

"That was a different bed, and it wasn't empty," Bofur protested.

"Is this one going to be empty?" Ori asked, arching a brow.

Bofur blinked a couple of times at that before looking at Ori for a long moment, "I don't know.  Is it?"

"Oh come along," Ori said, shuffling him over. "You need the sleep and you need to be comfortable."

Sinking down to sit on the edge of the bed, Bofur considered him, "Are you sure about this?"

"It's just sleep," Ori said, not usually as dense as he currently sounded.

The brunet paused for a moment and then nodded, "Alright then."

Ori curled up on the bed, tired enough that he was perfectly ready to drop off. Bofur pulled the blankets up and leaned over to shut off the light, trying not to think about the difference of having Ori beside him in comparison to the last time.

Almost once he was in the bed, Ori curled up against his chest and promptly fell asleep. Bofur stilled at that, his arm curling automatically around Ori and he forced himself to relax again and managed eventually to drift off to sleep as well.

Sometime before dawn, Ori woke up, stirring where he was still curled up against Bofur. He felt warm and safe and his limbs felt heavy and he tried to remember what he was dreaming about. He slowly came more aware, realizing that perhaps dragging himself into Bofur's bed was a bad idea and he blushed, trying to wiggle away.

Bofur blinked himself awake when Ori started moving, staring at the ceiling for a moment as he processed why he was in bed and who was next to him.  He felt his face heat and he glanced at Ori.

"You're supposed to be sleeping," Ori protested weakly.

"I'm not a heavy sleeper," Bofur replied, quietly.  "Are you leaving?"

"Not leaving," Ori protested even though that had been exactly his plan. "Uh, going to the bathroom." To hide for a while and take a lot of calming breaths, and hope to whatever god there was his body would stop wanting so much.

The brunet looked extremely skeptical at that but nodded, carefully unwrapping his arm from around Ori, "You don't need to stay if you'd rather go."

"I'm not going," Ori protested. "Hey, why are you so willing to let me go anyway?"

That earned a blink, Bofur trying to process that while still sleep addled, "Because I'd rather you be comfortable.  And if you're more comfortable not sleeping here then..." he shrugged very slightly.

"The point was you being comfortable," Ori said and paused a beat. "Are you not?"

"I'm very comfortable," Bofur answered quickly.  "But I don't want to you to feel obligated to stay either."

"I'm not obligated," Ori said and frowned, propping himself up over Bofur.

"But you didn't think through sleeping here, did you?" Bofur said, offering Ori a faint smile.

Blushing, Ori dropped his head against Bofur's shoulder. "I had certain innocent notions that may not have translated."

That earned a quiet laugh as Bofur reached up and ran a hand over Ori's hair, "Innocent notions are fine.  I liked waking up to you."

Ori smiled faintly. "I'm glad of that, just, um, that is..."

"That is?" Bofur prompted quietly, faint amusement tingeing his voice.

"I think I was even dreaming about you," Ori muttered.

The other man stilled at that before he pressed a kiss to Ori's lips, not thinking about where they were.

Ori couldn't stop thinking about it even though he melted down. "Actually, I should probably go before Dori wakes up."

Bofur leaned back against the pillows and nodded at that, though he sounded like it was the last thing he wanted to agree with, "Probably.  I'd rather he not come after me."

"And he would, if we did not so innocent things in bed," Ori said but he still had not been able to stop blushing.

Bofur blushed as well at that thought, "And if you don't get back til morning he'll figure that happened even if it didn't, won't he?"

"Probably," Ori admitted and ducked his head down.

"It's not morning yet," Bofur murmured, though whether he was indicating Ori should go or stay was unclear.

"No," Ori agreed, looking out the window.

Bofur bit his lower lip, "I'd like you to stay, but you probably ought to go."

"Why would you like me to stay?" Ori asked, hovering closer, the tips of his braids brushing Bofur's face.

Breath catching slightly at that, Bofur swallowed, "Because, because I like having you here.  Whether for innocent reasons or less than innocent ones."

"You're going to have to make your mind up on that," Ori said, suddenly wishing he had any of Fili or Kili's sheer charisma and confidence. They'd seemed to pick up sex with no issue.

"I like having you here regardless, but you're in my bed and I can't help but think that I'd like to keep you here with less than pure intentions."

"You're allowed to have those," Ori said, but his voice was faint.

Bofur hesitated, reaching up to cup Ori's cheek in his hand, "Would you stay for those?"

"What part of making you comfortable, let alone the sheer amount of kissing we've done, would make you think I wouldn't?"

That earned a slightly nervous laugh from Bofur, "None of it.  I just, I just don't want to do anything you're not comfortable with."

"I'm still comfortable," Ori said but he paused. "If I'm not, will you stop?"

Bofur nodded, "Yes."

“Then you can push it a bit more," Ori said softly.

Offering Ori a bit of a smile, Bofur leaned up enough to kiss him, one arm wrapping around Ori's waist. Shifting, Ori slowly lowered himself, fingers sliding through Bofur's hair.

Letting his fingers dip under Ori's shirt, Bofur massaged small circles on his sides. Groaning, Ori shifted closer. "Willing to risk it then?"

"Very much so," Bofur murmured, trailing kisses down Ori's throat.

"Good," Ori said, shivering and tilting his head down to press their mouths together.

-0-

Merry looked around and finally saw Eowyn.  He hurried to catch up to her, shifting his bookbag higher on his shoulder as he went, "Eowyn."

She startled at being called, turning. "Merry," she returned, looking confused. "Yes?"

He came to a stop, looking up at her, "I, well, I've been having trouble with the work for class and I don't really know anyone else there."  He ran a hand over the back of his neck, "I was wondering if you'd be able to help me with it, at all?"

She almost protested and then thought about the rest of the students in the science class. She had skipped it the year before for physics but went back when no other electives appealed. "Alright," she said, inclining her head slightly.

That earned a bright smile, "Thank you.  I just, Science hasn't ever been my strong point.  I just, I don't get it."

"And Pippin is not in that class?" she offered.

"Pippin's in a different one.  And much as I love him, I don't go to him for homework help."

That earned a smile from Eowyn. "His wisdom seems to lie along a different route."

"Most of it culinary," Merry agreed, grinning.  "Or how to get into trouble.  Though I may have helped teach him that one."

"I do feel that you could safely be blamed," Eowyn agreed. "When would you like to go over the class then?"

"When are you available?" Merry replied.  "I don't have anything I have to do besides school on any day."

For a moment she considered, watching the other students leaving campus. "We could start now," she offered. "If we let my brother know."

"That would be great.  I...should probably let Frodo know.  He worries."

"Is he the only one?" Eowyn asked, arching her pale brow at him.

"God no.  He's just the one who starts worrying soonest, I think," Merry replied with a shrug.  "And he's the one who'll remember to tell Bilbo."

As Merry hurried off to find Frodo, Eowyn considered the shireling’s retreating back. It was not a request she had expected, but perhaps tutoring would be a good thing. Besides, the Shire folk seemed kind enough. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly this chapter was either going to be ungodly long or ungodly short and in the interest of a speedier update, you got the shorter version. Please do enjoy!


	21. Except as a Warning

Kili's hands itched to reach out to Fili as they walked, heading from the hotel to the coffee shop after Fili's last class. "I still can't believe you found a job on campus," Kili said.

"Which is why we're only celebrating with coffee," Fili said, glancing over and grinning.

A smooth voice came from their left as Smaug stepped away from the brick building he had been leaning against, dressed impeccably as always, "Are the two of you out alone again?  My, my, courageous of you in a city like this."

Their heads whipped around together, Fili holding an arm out across Kili's chest to keep him back. "Don't," he started when Kili tried to shove forward.

Smaug smiled, though it looked more like he was baring his teeth, "I'm surprised Thorin's letting you out of his sight right now.  Though, wait, you haven’t been near that building in weeks, have you?  Have a falling out, did you?"

"It's not quite a falling out," Fili said mildly and Kili shot him a quick look behind his back.

That earned a deep chuckle, "Did he find you out then?"

"What's there to find out?" Fili asked, one hand resting against a knife sheathed underneath his jacket

"Your family seems to revel in taboo relationships.  Yours the most taboo of all," Smaug replied idly, his gaze moving to Fili's hand before shifting between the two brothers.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Fili said. "We are but brothers."

Smaug tipped his head back and actually laughed at that, "Of course you are.  Nothing untoward here whatsoever."

"Nothing," Fili said and Kili clearly bit his lip to keep from saying anything.

"It's not as though I can blame you," Smaug said, his voice dropping to nearly a purr.  It was unclear which one of them he was talking to, "After all, he's very attractive."

Fili snarled at him. "Don't you dare--" he started even as Kili pressed forward again.

"Leave him alone."

That earned a vicious smile from the mob boss, "Oh you two are so very amusing."

"We're not pets," Kili snapped and Fili almost hit him, shuffling him back again quickly.

"But you'd make such charming ones," came the response, Smaug's gaze fixed on KIli.

Fili tensed. "And what would you be inclined to do with pets anyway?"

Smaug glanced at him briefly, "I've no idea yet.  I'm sure I could come up with something."

"I'd rather you didn't," Fili managed.

"Who would stop me, little prince?  You?"  Smaug asked, one eyebrow arching.

"I would," Fili said, voice firm even as he kept pushing Kili back, moving slowly down the alley and away from Smaug, who still only looked amused at the fact they were trying. “And we aren’t princes,” Fili added, tone bitter.

"Always so confident in your futile abilities.  It must be a trait the Durin bloodline bears," Smaug shook his head.  "It's a pity really, all that potential wasted."

"We don't think we're wasting it," Kili protested but something was shadowed in Fili's face.

"Short lives, violence at every turn.  Do either of you expect to see thirty?"  He glanced at Kili, "Or even twenty?"

"Is that a threat?" Fili asked.

"Should it have been?"  Smaug drawled in reply.  "After all, it's not really you I'm after, it's your uncle.  And you're not speaking to him, probably due to your choice of lovers.  So it certainly could be, but I've yet to decide that."

"How kind of you," Fili said, still inching down the alley, but refusing to turn and run as that would present an obvious target.

"On the other hand, I'm not certain I'm quite ready to let you go," the man said, stepping down the alley after them as he withdrew a handgun.

"What do you want then?" Fili asked, almost telling Kili to run but he knew that Kili would never leave him alone.

"Speaking to him or not, the two of you are the most important things in Thorin's life, aren't you?" Smaug spoke as though musing aloud, though his green eyes were focused and his body was tensed like a coiled snake.

"I really wouldn't know," Fili said. "Besides, there's plenty of other people in his life. We're not nearly so important as you want to think.” A knife flashed into his hand and he held it in front of him, other hand still pushing Kili back. He had no gun and they were far enough that it would probably not do much good.

"Then you're at least of import to each other and I suppose I'll have to settle for that," Smaug said, raising the gun and leveling it just past Fili's shoulder at the younger of the two brothers. When Fili shoved himself in the way, he laughed. “You would die together then? How terribly romantic. It’s almost too bad that yours isn’t the sort of love story to make it into the books, except as a warning.”

Fili shoved Kili away and lunged at Smaug, certain Smaug only intended to kill one of them. Even as Kili tried to follow him, a shot rang out, Smaug offering a salute to Kili as he tried to catch Fili.  He backed out of the alley, reholstering his gun as soon as he was around the corner, and made his way calmly along the street.

Trying to stem the bleeding form of his brother, Kili screamed loudly enough some Samaritan rounded the corner. "Ambulance!" he shrieked at the man, who seemed shocked to see the blood in the alleyway. "Now!"

Finally the man came to himself and ran for the nearest phone, a small crowd starting to gather. When an ambulance did finally arrive, Kili was snarling at anyone who tried to step close, almost not letting the medics through either. Moments after their arrival, Thranduil appeared, not even batting an eye to see who it was.

"You need to let them through," he said and Kili's eyes narrowed at him. "I'll take you to the hospital, he's already passed out." When Kili finally shifted back, Thranduil pulled him away and toward his car, the ambulance already peeling away. "Asking who did this wouldn't do much, would it?" he asked, pushing his blond hair back and Kili just shook his head.

The drive behind the ambulance passed in silence. "You can press charges," Thranduil said, having left other officers at the scene to see what they could find. He would question Kili later because based off the boy's expression he wouldn't get anything now. Instead he left him at the payphone and went to talk to the nurses to make sure they gave him any updates.

For a long moment Kili stared at the phone before he picked it up.

The phone in the lobby of the apartment building rang twice before Bombur reached it, "Hello?"

Kili tried to think of a greeting, some acknowledgement of who it was on the line. "I need to talk to Thorin."

"Who?  Kili?"  Bombur waved a hand toward Bofur, his brother nodding quickly and hurrying to fetch Thorin.

"That--" Kili started. "I just need Thorin."

Around the lobby, Bombur suddenly had everyone's attention, Bifur leaning forward and Dwalin's posture tensing.

"Bofur's gone to get him," Bombur assured, even as he heard footsteps pounding down the stairs.

"Good," Kili said shakily and Thorin thundered down the stairs, trying not to tear the phone out of Bombur's hand as he held his hand out.

Bombur handed the phone over quickly, backing up a couple of steps.  Bilbo came to a stop on the stairs, having been on his way to see Thorin when Bofur said that Kili was on the phone. "Kili?" he said quickly. "Kili where--"

"Fili's been shot," Kili said. "We're at the hospital--" but before he could say more, Thorin dropped the phone and was already on the way to the door.

"Thorin?"  Balin asked before he could reach the door, picking up the phone.

"They're at the hospital," he got out and was through the door. Dwalin took a step after him and stopped to consider before stepping back.

Balin glanced at his brother, "Dis needs to know."  He turned his attention back to the phone, not noticing as Bilbo slipped out of the building silently, "Kili, your uncle's on his way." Without saying much else, Kili hung up, leaning his head against the phone booth and trying to keep breathing.

Kili was standing outside the hospital when Thorin pulled up, rubber of his wheels squeaking as he parked, moving almost before he turned off the car. "Kili--"

"You should come inside," Kili said. "Fili's still in surgery but you should... sit... or, or something," he was unable to meet Thorin's eyes and tensed when Thorin dragged him into an embrace. Kili's hands went out, unsure what to do. "Thorin--"

"You're alive," Thorin said, burying his face in Kili's hair and holding him tighter. "You're alright."

"Fili might not be," Kili managed and Thorin drew back slightly. "I haven't had news. Thranduil's been here, waiting with me."

"What happened?" Thorin asked, the first of many questions he wanted to ask and Kili took a solid step backward.

"Smaug," he said. "He found us and Fili spent too much time protecting me."

Thorin didn't even blink, nodding. "Of course it was Smaug," he said. "Come, perhaps we should sit."

Nodding, Kili led him inside and they found one of the hard benches outside where the doctors would first appear from where Fili was being tended to. For a moment they sat in silence. "Where were you?" Thorin asked and Kili looked at him sideways.

"A hotel, school," he said and Thorin considered throttling Gimli when he returned. "Does that still matter?"

"So you won't deny what I saw," Thorin said, tone mild and Kili's eye narrowed.

"No," he said, firm. "That will not change."

Leaning back, Thorin looked across the hallway and Kili almost got up to move somewhere else when he finally spoke. "I cannot say I like it," he said, voice a rumble. "I cannot say I approve." He turned his head to look at Kili, who was still braced for flight next to him, not meeting his eyes. "But I love the two of you more than anything in the world," and he noticed Kili's wince at those words, wishing it wasn't there. "I cannot reject you for anything. You're still my nephews."

Slowly, Kili finally looked over at him, still silent.

"I cannot help but wish that in a few years you'll figure out what this means and turn around and move beyond it and marry other women and have children. I cannot say I look forward to the hard road you'll face," Thorin continued. "But I want you home more than anything. I can learn... I can learn to live with whatever you need."

Breath hitching, Kili finally moved to lean against Thorin, curling up against his side and only trying to breath.

Bilbo had arrived several minutes after Thorin, making his way through the hospital to where he remembered waiting for news on Thorin.  He paused when he saw Kili and Thorin before moving over quietly.

Thorin looked up as he approached and the movement drew Kili's gaze as well. "Hey, Bilbo," he said but his voice sounded watery and Thorin squeezed Kili's shoulder.

"Hey," Bilbo murmured, pausing before sitting down on the bench near them.  "No word yet?"

"Not yet," Thorin said, Kili still watching him.

Bilbo nodded very slightly, not having expected there to be.  He glanced at Kili, seeing Fili's blood on his clothes.  The shireling stilled at that, "Can I fetch anything for you?"

Kili shook his head, having not noticed the blood on his clothing. "Coffee?" Thorin requested quietly. "If you could." He did not remove his arm from Kili's shoulder.

Nodding again, Bilbo rose, "I'll be back shortly."  He glanced at Kili's clothing again before pulling his gaze away.

"Thank you," Kili said, voice monotone. Hesitating for a brief moment longer, Bilbo slipped away to find coffee. Kili and Thorin didn't move, still pressed against each other as they waited.

-0-

Dwalin walked to Dis' work place, trying not to rush and look conspicuous. When he arrived, he asked for Dis and said that an emergency needed her urgent attention and she would have to leave early. The manager called for her, and she appeared a couple of minutes later, having grabbed her coat when she was told to take the rest of the day.  She paled when she saw Dwalin and pulled her coat on as she moved to his side, "What's happened?"

"Kili called from the hospital," Dwalin said. "We should head there."

They stepped out onto the street, her eyes widening, "The, the hospital."

"Yes," Dwalin said. "That's all we got out of Thorin and I don't believe he told Balin anything either. But it was Kili and he did call."

"Then Kili at least is alright," she breathed, though she didn't relax in the least.

"Yes," Dwalin agreed, not adding they knew nothing of Fili as she would already be thinking that.

"Thorin indicated they, they were both there?" Her voice was far less steady than usual.

"I believe so," Dwalin said. "Thorin took the car."

"When was this?" she asked, her steps fast as they walked down the sidewalk. For once they both could ignore the looks they got from passerbys, the sneers toward their braids.

"I walked over as soon as I could," he said. "Fifteen minutes."

Dis ran a hand over her dark hair, clenching his fingers around the hair at the back of her neck, feeling the Durin's braid there.  "I've enough money for a taxi if we can get one to stop."

"Then I'll get one to stop," Dwalin said, stepping on the curb and glaring down the first empty taxi he saw, eyes threatening to remember their plates and destroy the car in the dark of the night if they did not stop.

Dis slipped in, directing the cabbie to take them to the hospital before leaning back in the seat, still fiddling with her braids. Hesitating, Dwalin reached a hand out to rest on top of Dis'. "We will find out more when we arrive."

She looked at him, managing to nod, her fingers stilling in the repeated motion.  It was a habit she'd had since she was a child and it always came through when she was agitated.  "Dwalin,, if anything happens..."

"We don't know what has happened yet," he said, hoping to sooth and having no concept to do so.

Falling silent, she nodded again.  "We don't know how bad it is, it could be, could be minor."  She didn't sound like she believed her own words.  They reached the hospital and Dis stopped only long enough to pay the cab driver.

Dwalin paused, looking back at her. "Will you be prepared to face them?"

"They're my sons, Dwalin.  I still, I still don't know what I fully think, but I love them. They're the most important people in my life."  She drew a steadying breath and then nodded, "I will."

Dwalin nodded. "You'll have to reassure them of that, or Kili at least."

"I know."  She looked toward the hospital, "I have to know what's happened.  And I'll reassure them."

“Do you need a moment?" Dwalin asked.

Her eyes closed as she bit the inside of her lower lip.  She'd very nearly undone her left braid with how much she'd been running her fingers over it, "Yes. Just a brief one."

"Alright," Dwalin nodded, hand on her shoulder before moving to enter the hospital. She watched him go before leaning against the outside wall of the hospital, trying to gather herself together enough to actually enter.

When Dwalin stepped inside, Kili jumped up from where he was waiting, Thorin drinking coffee off to the side slightly. Thorin nodded at Dwalin, leaning against the wall closest to where the doctors would hopefully be.

"Dwalin," Kili said, braced for flight still.

"Your mother it outside," Dwalin said and Kili's eyes widened. "How is your brother?"

"We haven't heard yet," Thorin said when Kili's jaw worked with no sound. "He was shot, by Smaug. Thranduil is around but he's not approached again since I have arrived."

Dwalin nodded and Kili's shoulders relaxed slightly but he leaned back when Dwalin approached. "You're alright," Dwalin said. "And that's all that matters."

Kili looked between Thorin and Dwalin. "It's not so easy to forgive as that," he said. "When you don't know—“

"Your mother told me," Dwalin said and both Kili and Thorin startled at him. "And all that matters is that you are back, and that you are safe, and that Fili appears to be still alive and someday he will be fine as well. That is all that matters."

"But--" Kili gaped at him.

"Just don't tell anyone else," Dwalin said, clapped a hand on Kili's shoulder and his knees almost buckled at his complete shock.

Dis appeared, freezing when she saw her youngest son's state.  Her gaze swept over him, assessing him for any physical harm, her voice almost breaking when she spoke, "Kili."

"Mother," he managed as Dwalin stepped aside, stopping next to Thorin.

Stepping nearer, she reached a hand out to him and hoped her voice would stay steady, "You are always my son.  You and Fili.  No matter what.  You are the two most important people in my life. Nothing can change that."

His face twitched, threatening to crumble. "Alright," he managed. "I can't--I'm sorry--"

She rested her hand on his cheek, the tips of her fingers brushing against his hair, "Shh, Kili. Don't be sorry, my beloved son."

"I can't help it," he managed. "Not with everything..."

She drew her gaze away from him for only a brief glance at her brother before she turned her attention back to her son, "It's not your fault, Kili."

Noticing the look, Kili managed not to look over at Thorin. "Then whose is it?"

"No one's," she replied after a brief moment.  "It's not something that has blame.  Or, or it shouldn't be."

"Good," Kili said. "Because you certainly can't blame Fili."

She shook her head, "No.  No I don't blame either of you," his mother assured him.

Still tense, Kili slowly nodded. "A-alright."

Dis hesitated for the briefest of moments before actually drawing him close, wrapping an arm around him and twining her fingers in his hair, "Oh, Kili."

Dwalin glanced over at Thorin, clearing his throat when the doctor finally arrived. Dis looked up, letting go of Kili mostly, though keeping close to her son. "He won't wake up for a while," the doctor said, looking around and deciding based off the braids they were all from the same family. "But he should survive."

Dis felt herself relax ever so slightly, "How severe is the damage?"

"It will be tough going for a while," he continued, Thranduil having appeared in the doorway.

Dis nodded, "But he'll recover?"

The doctor hesitated, but nodded, "He should.  The surgery was difficult, but if he makes it through tonight he'll be fine.  He'll have a long road of recovery and should rest even after we release him from here."

"If he gets through tonight, when can he come home?" Dwalin asked, and Kili found himself looking over at the taller sideways.

The doctor shook his head, "I'm afraid I can't say that conclusively at the moment. I'll have a better idea in the morning."

“Thank you," Thorin said from where he was still leaning against the wall.

The doctor nodded, excusing himself to go see to his other patients.  Dis watched him go, before her gaze flickered toward where Thranduil had arrived, "Officer."

He inclined his head, looking over at Kili. "Will you be pressing charges?"

"I don't know yet," Kili said, tone mild enough.

Dis eyed the blond officer, her tone guarded, "What good would it do if he did?"

"Last time you refused to believe us when we said who had harmed us," Thorin said and Thranduil clearly wanted to roll his eyes but he managed not to.

"That was many years ago," Thranduil said.  "Times have changed. If you say Smaug has tried to kill you, it will go to the courts."

"You have enough _evidence_ this time?" Dis responded, something acidic seeping into her voice.

"Yes," Thranduil said, refusing to rise to the bait. "Last time it was but one gangster against another’s word, Smaug was too wise to leave anything behind and his alibi was airtight. But now we have a witness that's not," he paused, considering Kili. "So obviously just another gangster with a vendetta. A seventeen year old boy--"

"Eighteen," Kili protested hotly and Thranduil arched a brow.

"Anyway, the point is he got sloppy," Thranduil said. "And I'm more than sick of him running this town."

Dis considered him for a moment and glanced at her brother before nodding very slightly, "We'll let you know if charges will be pressed."

Thranduil scowled but nodded, moving to go back to the scene of the crime.

Bilbo stepped out of his way from where he'd returned.  He slipped past the Officer quietly and offered Kili the bag he carried, "A change of clothes."

"Thank you," Kili said with a frown before he realized he was still wearing the clothes that were covered in blood and he quickly took the bag from Bilbo. Bilbo nodded very slightly, glancing away from Kili and moving over to Thorin's side.

"We should fetch your things from the hotel and return home," Thorin said and Kili startled, snapping his head over.

"No," he said and Thorin's eyes widened at him. "No, not until... not until Fili's awake and can make that decision with me. Until then I... I'll return but I won't do that."

Dis looked at her son, "But you'll come home at least tonight?"

"I will," Kili agreed faintly.

His mother breathed a soft sigh of relief at that, reaching out to brush a lock of his hair back.

He nodded. "It's too bad you don't still have a spare bed," he said and his expression was strained.

"I can make something up for you if you like," she murmured, watching him.

"I'd like that," he agreed and Thorin rested a hand on Bilbo's shoulder a moment before moving toward the door. Bilbo hesitated for a moment before moving to follow Thorin, his gaze flickering briefly to where Dis and Kili still stood.

"I will stay," Dwalin said. "There's no major classes tomorrow and I can stay up tonight to make sure there is not any news."

"Thank you," Kili said quietly.

Dis looked toward Dwalin, offering him a ghost of a smile as she echoed her son's words, "Come along, Kili.  Let’s go home and we'll come back first thing tomorrow."

Kili nodded, having changed his shirt at the very least. "And a shower," he added, Thorin leading the way with Bilbo toward the car.

Dis nodded, "You can shower while I make up a bed for you."

"I can sleep in our apartment," Kili said. "You don't have to go through the trouble." He wondered if the sheets still smelled like Fili or if they had been washed since they ran.

"It's no trouble, Kili," she said, but paused. "Would you prefer to sleep in your apartment?"  She knew she hadn't been able to sleep in the room she had shared with her husband without him there, though her mind drew rapidly away from that comparison.

"I don't know," he admitted.

"I'll make one up for you, in case you decide to stay with me tonight, alright?" Dis murmured as they got into the car.

"Thank you," Kili said, still fighting for more words.

She reached over to run a hand over his hair as she had when he was younger, "Always, Kili."

"Thank you," he repeated again, voice dropping further.

-0-

Slowly coming consciousness, Fili felt pain. It was numb and distant but it was there with panic because he did not know what happened to Kili. Tearing his eyes open, the first thing he saw was Kili's face leaning over his.

"You're in the hospital," Kili said, smile spreading across his face to see his brother's eyes. "You got through the night and you're going to be okay."

Fili's fingers twitched and Kili grabbed his hand. "I'm fine, Fili," Kili said and paused. "Thorin's here," he said quietly, "And mother."

"Why?" Fili asked and it took several minutes for Kili to help him sit up in the bed.

"You have to be careful," Kili scolded. "I called them because I was scared. We've been talking. Thranduil also wants us to press charges against Smaug, he promises he'll back us up this time, unlike when Erebor was burned down."

"And?" Fili asked. "Our mother? Thorin?"

"Dwalin seems to have taken no issue with us," Kili said after a beat and Fili's eyes widened in alarm. "Mother and Thorin... They don't seem happy but... they want us home and I think right now that's all that matters."

"And later?" Fili asked and Kili just shook his head.

There was a soft tap at the doorway, their mother's voice accompanying it. "Thank god you're awake."

Fili offered her a strained smile. Before that he couldn't have said whether he was more nervous to see his mother or Thorin, but in that moment he desperately wished Thorin had arrived first. "Good morning," he said and Kili gave him a look, his own ability to find meaningful words no better.

Dis drew nearer his bedside, hesitating before brushing his hair back lightly, "It is, yes."

"Better that you're awake," Kili added and Fili's mouth twitched as he carefully kept himself from moving away from his mother's touch.

She drew her hand back, "Exactly.  The doctor seems hopeful that you'll be out of here in a week or so.  But you'll need rest still for quite some time."

"I seem to be seeing quite a lot of bed rest lately," Fili said.

“Hopefully this will be the last of it for a very long time," his mother managed, quietly.

He blinked once at her and then nodded. "Hopefully."

"Are you going to come home?"  she asked, tone still not raising above much more than a whisper.

He looked between Kili and Dis, and Kili nodded slightly to show he was willing. "Would you accept us back?" he asked. "Truly, I mean."

She met his eyes as she spoke, "You're my sons, Fili.  I...I don't understand, but I'm trying.  I love you both, and I want you home. I'd never turn you away."

Fili looked over at Kili and for a long moment they did not speak, silently considering. "For now," Fili said finally. "I mean, when I'm out of the hospital."

Dis nodded very slightly, accepting that. "And if you choose to leave, will you give us warning before you do so?"

Effort was clear on his face and Fili nodded. "Yes," he promised.

"Thank you," his mother murmured, looking relieved at that answer.

Fili nodded. "Last time... we were scared that was all."

Her eyes moved from one of her sons to the other before she nodded, "I know.  I...I'm sorry it took this for us to be able to speak again."

"I'm sorry too," Fili said and Kili shifted closer again. "But are you truly alright with it?"

"Truly?"  She considered her words carefully as she spoke, "I don't know.  I'm trying to understand, to come to terms with it.  It's a lot for me to take in.  But, but what matters most to me is that you're my sons, regardless of who you love.  I just, I have to bring my mind fully around to understanding that.  Alright?"

"Alright," Fili said after a beat and Kili shifted slightly closer to his mother, not placing himself between them but showing his willingness to accept her statement.

Dis paused for another brief moment before extending ehr hands to her sons, letting them choose whether to take them. Kili did almost instantly, but Fili took a while longer, finally reaching his own hand out.

Breath hitching very slightly at that, Dis tightened her hold on their hands almost imperceptibly as she murmured, "I was so afraid I'd lost you both."

"We didn't go that far," Kili said.

"But you weren't coming back, or we had no indication you were," Dis responded. Fili looked away, because he hadn't planned on coming back at all.

Dis glanced at her eldest, having suspicions about what her chances of seeing them would have been if he hadn't been shot, "I'm just, I'm just glad that you're both alive."

"We are," Fili said. "And who knows. Maybe years later we would have returned, successful in some way or another."

"I would have preferred to be hearing from you while you were making successes of yourselves," she replied quietly.

When Fili seemed unable to react Kili interjected. "We might have sent postcards."

That finally earned a smile from their mother, "I would have kept everyone of them."

"Maybe we could have traveled," Kili said, drawing the joke out far longer than he should have. "And you'd have postcards from Asia and Europe and the south..."

"You still could, you know," Dis said, looking from one son to the other.

"I hope so," Kili said.

"We're finally making some money again.  It's not much, but it could be enough to start," she offered softly.

"I know," Fili said. "Ori gave us some."

"He knew where you were?" Dis asked, her eyebrows rising slightly.  "He plays his cards closer to his chest than I would have supposed."

"He often does," Fili said. "I'm surprised people forget to notice. He figured it out by walking into hotels at a certain radius and asking for the other people from Erebor."

That startled a quiet laugh from Dis, "Of course he did."

"He brought tea," Kili added, still amused by the way Ori had fussed over the thermos.

"He is very certainly Dori's brother some days, isn't he?" Dis smiled, shaking her head. She finally released their hands, "I should see if your Uncle's waiting."

"Alright," Fili agreed, dropping his eyes down.

"Would you rather I not?" She asked softly, watching Fili's responses.

"It has to happen sometime," Fili said finally. Dis nodded very slightly before moving toward the door, pausing to look back at her sons once more and slipping out of the room.

Thorin was waiting outside the door, coffee in hand. "He's awake?" he asked, having heard the voices.

Dis nodded very slightly, "Yes."

"Will they see me?" Thorin asked.

"I'm not sure Fili even wanted to see me, but he didn't say he wouldn't see you.  I would take what we can get right now," his sister answered, darting a glance back at her son's hospital room.

Thorin nodded. "Alright," he said, pushing off the wall and stepping inside. "Wish my luck I suppose."

"Good luck," Dis murmured before going to find herself a cup of coffee as she'd barely slept the night before.

 Thorin waited before entering the room, closing the door behind him. Kili had moved back to where he'd been, closer to Fili. They looked over at him together and for a long moment were silent. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"I'm alright," Fili said. "I mean, I'm in pain but I'll be alright."

Another moment passed. "Are you angry?" Fili asked finally, voice small.

"I haven't been in a long time," Thorin said and sat on the bed next to Fili.

-0-

Legolas was draped over the couch in the living room, his nose buried in the book he had to read for English.  He didn't care much for Shakespeare, and even less for the comedies. He glanced up, placing his finger on the line he was reading, as he heard his father enter the house.

Thranduil stepped inside the living room, dropping his hat on the table. "Today has been one of those days," he said, lifting Legolas' legs and sinking onto the couch.

His son drew his knees up, still leaning against the arm of the couch as he reached for a bookmark, "What happened?"

"Everything," he said. "Bard's testy about the fact I'm backing up the Ereborians and I didn't sleep last night--I hope you did because I've been up almost forty hours."

Setting the book aside, Legolas nodded very slightly, "I got some sleep, yes.  I can make supper tonight."  He paused, "What, what are you backing them up on?"

"Hm?" Thranduil said, having almost fallen asleep. "That hasn't made its way into the papers yet then? Smaug shot one of Thorin's nephews."

Legolas paled, "It, it's probably in the papers, I haven't looked."  He swung his legs off the couch, "Can you stay awake long enough for me to get something for you to eat?"

"I'll try," Thranduil managed. "Haven't eaten much yet either."

His son nodded, pushing to his feet, "I didn't think so.  Is, is Thorin's nephew going to be alright?"

"He woke up today," Thranduil said, head going back against the couch, staring at the ceiling. "I'm not sure alright is really the best word though."

"Which one was it?" Legolas called quietly from the kitchen as he dug through the ice box to find something he could put together quickly.

"Fili," Thranduil said. "The older one. The blond."

"They," Legolas paused, not sure how much to say.  "I don't think they've been speaking with their family much."

"Why not?" Thranduil asked, not moving his head.

"I don't know.  It may just be Kili and Gimli who aren't talking, but they've been cycling through giving each other looks or avoiding each other for a while." He shrugged before realizing that his father couldn't see him, "Like I said, it might just be that Kili and Gimli have had a falling out."

"I think it was much bigger than that," Thranduil said. "They were having quite a scene at the hospital."

Legolas finally emerged with a sandwich and a small salad for his father, offering the plate to him as he sat down again, "Well, for their sake I hope they sort out whatever it is."

"They looked like they were all going home," Thranduil said, staring at the sandwich before he slowly picked it up, chewing slowly.

Well, that might remove at least some of the tension from the lunchroom then," Legolas murmured, picking up the assigned book without opening it again.

Thranduil hummed, focusing on the food in front of him and barely able to get through all of it. Legolas curled his legs up next to him, watching his father, "You should go get some sleep, Ada."

"If I could," Thranduil said. "I'm so exhausted I don't think I can."

That earned a slightly worried look, "You'll, you'll make yourself sick at this rate."

"It's going to be a bitch of a week," Thranduil said. "Say, whatever happened to your... whatever he was that I don't want to think about."

Legolas looked away, running his thumb over the edge of the book pages, "We haven't spoken in weeks."

"Why not?" Thranduil asked, wincing to himself at the fact he was still asking questions.

"Because I told him before break that I wasn't ready to deal with anyone in his family and when we tried to talk after break there were things said that, well..."  He shook his head, "It was a bad fight."

"Most fights aren't worth walking away," Thranduil said, glancing over, though his head was heavy to move.

"He doesn't understand why I think how, how Thorin dealt with, well," he broke off, gathering himself before he finished his thought, "Why I think it was too brutal."

Thranduil looked over again. "It was brutal," he agreed. "But Gimli had nothing to do with it." He refused to fear Thorin but some nights he woke up in a cold sweat because Legolas had been in danger and the Ereborian had not held it over him but the night could have gone in so many ways.

Legolas tangled his fingers in his hair and nodded, "I know that.  I just, we don't even get along half the time."  He paused, looking at his father, "I'm surprised you're not more relieved by the fact that we're not speaking."

"I'm not saying I'm not relieved," Thranduil said. "But I'd rather you talk than fight."

Legolas sighed, "I just hate the fact that we can hardly talk without having a fight about _something_.  If it isn't this it's what he thinks of you, or what I think of his family or...or who knows."

"Then why did you start in the first place?"

Legolas couldn't meet his father's eyes as he drew a deep breath, "Because, because I wanted it to work.  Because even though we fight I like him."

"Then find a way to stop fighting," Thranduil shrugged.

That earned a skeptical glance from his son, but he finally nodded, opening his book up again, "I'll try talking to him again.  Maybe it'll work this time."

"If you want it to work, make it work," Thranduil said. "It hurts and it will take time, but it is that simple." He pushed himself to his feet, raking a hand through his hair. '

Legolas paused before nodding again, shifting the topic as he watched his father, "Are you going to be alright, Ada?"

"Ask me again after I slept."

"Good night, in that case," Legolas murmured, still watching him carefully.

"Good night," Thranduil said, patting his head heavily on the way past. "Try to sleep well."

"You as well, Ada," Legolas said, smoothing his hair once his father left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one does abrupt quite like the line of Durin.
> 
> This chapter brought to you late by moving twice in one month, comic con, and a week long fever.


	22. It's the First Con I Learned

Fili tried not to lean harder on Kili than he had to as they stepped out of the car. "Are you sure?"

"About going back?" Kili said and shook his head slightly as Thorin stepped out. "Too little too late for that, isn't it?"

"Probably," Fili agreed, one hand still bracing against his wound.

Bilbo had been waiting in the foyer and heard the car doors.  Glancing out through a window he opened the door, holding it for them and speaking quietly, "It's good to see you both here again."

Inclining his head, Fili gave him a strained smile. "It's good to see you as well," he said, but looked vaguely more nervous when he looked over Bilbo's shoulders and saw the others waiting.

Dis stepped forward from where she'd been waiting near the stairs, "Let's get you upstairs and settled in."

"Good," Fili said, not wanting to meet anyone's eyes as Kili dragged him toward the stairs.

Frodo moved quickly from where he'd been sitting on the stairs to get out of their way.  He offered them a faintly reassuring smile and slipped over to stay in the shadows by the stairs instead.

"I'm used to being the one underfoot," Kili said under his breath and Fili laughed before wincing.

Stopping where he was near the top of the stairs, Gimli offered them a bit of a smile, "Glad you're back.  Hope you heal soon, Fili."

"So do I," Fili agreed. "It's been a while hasn't it?"

Gimli nodded very slightly, "Yeah. I've missed you both."

"We're back now," Fili said. "And I don't think we'll go anywhere again."

 "I'm glad.  If you, if you need anything, let me know, yeah?"

"We will," Fili assured.

"I'm sure people will be fussing over us plenty," Kili laughed. "So we'll probably need some non fussing help."

Gimli offered them a grin at that, "Well, you know I'm good for that.  It's good to have you back."

"Glad to be back," Fili said but his tone undermined what he said. Offering Gimli another smile, Kili shuffled Fili into their room.

"Be cheery," he whispered and Fili groaned as Kili helped him down on the bed.

"How?" Fili said under his breath. "I know that Dwalin and Thorin assured us no one else knows but the fact remains that they could find out."

"They always could have found out," Kili said, fluffing pillows and setting them behind Fili.

Gimli looked at the closed door for a long moment before heading up to the apartment his family had.  Down in the foyer, Frodo moved to settle on the stairs again as Bilbo moved over to Thorin and murmured under his breath, "Fili's not ready to be back yet, is he?"

"He's more nervous," Thorin agreed. "I think he's ready to take flight again at any moment." He paused, leaning further back. "He worries more than Kili ever did. I suppose that is my fault."

"Perhaps, but I don't know how much you can hold yourself responsible for the traits he's picked up.  He should relax a little bit.  And they'll be more cautious."

"But how cautious should they really have to be?" Thorin said. "Because they're too scared to move."

"I meant than they were initially.  Locking doors, things like that which they should have been remembering in the first place."

Thorin ran a hand over his face. "Perhaps. I can't help but worry."

 Bilbo nodded very slightly, wanting nothing more than to ease some of the tension in Thorin's frame but not touching him where they were standing, "You care so deeply for them.”

"Come," Thorin said, gesturing to the stairs. "We should sleep as well."  Bilbo nodded slightly, crossing to the stairs and stepping around Frodo where he was perched on the third stair up.

On his way to follow, Thorin stopped at the sound of the knock on the door. He turned around, Dwalin taking up a defensive position before he opened the door.

Bilbo paused, turning and reaching down to rest a hand on Frodo's curls, causing his cousin to look up at him.  The older Shireling nodded up the stairs and Frodo shook his head, refusing to move even as a few of the Ereborians reached for concealed weapons.

"Well it's good to see you're all still deeply paranoid," Gandalf said, breezing into the lobby and looking around. "Are Fili and Kili back."

Bilbo relaxed only very slightly at Gandalf's appearance.  Dis moved her hand from a hidden knife, speaking, "What on earth are you doing here?"

"I heard that you are intending to press charges," Gandalf said. "Or rather Fili is since he's the one who's been shot. I've sent a communication to the best lawyer I know--though I believe it will take a while for her to make it over here by steam boat and in the meantime I would like to offer my services."

"What?" Thorin managed.

Dis stared at him, "You're serious?  Since when are you a lawyer, to begin with, and for another thing what makes you think that this person you've contacted would be willing to help us?"

"Because she likes me, and I was a lawyer before the war," Gandalf said. "Besides, she's never minded Ereborians."

"You are a confusing man, Gandalf.  You know what this case could mean for any involved, don't you?" Dis said, watching him distrustfully.

Gandalf shrugged, clearly unconcerned. "I've been through more dangerous situations, and done stupider things than poke this sleeping dragon."

"You said she several times," Dwalin said, frowning.

Gandalf just grinned. "Yes, she. And she is one of the best lawyers in the continent."

"Who _is_ she?" Balin asked from his place near the wall.

"A lawyer," Gandalf said and there was something final in his voice, as if a name would not matter at that point.

Dis' eyes narrowed ever so slightly at that and she frowned even as she nodded, "Which we could certainly use.  She has experience with these sorts of cases?"

"Yes," Gandalf said. "Will Fili and Kili be willing to speak to me?"

She paused at that, looking toward the stairs, "You can try, but I make no promises."

"Fair enough," he said, sweeping up the stairs and patting Frodo's head on the way past. Frodo startled at that, watching him go with wide eyes which he turned toward Bilbo at a discontented sound from his older cousin.

-0-

The phone in BIlbo's apartment rang in the early afternoon the next day, and Frodo picked it up, "Baggins residence,” he said, cheerfully enough.

The voice that came over the line was distant and crackly, "This is Bungo Baggins, is Frodo there?"

"Speaking, whatever are you calling for cousin?"

"Frodo, I'm afraid I have some bad news.  It's your parents,” Bungo said, awkwardness leaving the sentence hanging.

He paled, holding the earpiece closer, "What's happened?"

"I'm afraid they were on the Brandywine, there was an emergency and they couldn't wait for the ferry.  The boat capsized."

 

Catching hold of the phone table, Frodo leaned heavily against it, "But, but they're alright, aren't they?"

"We still, we still haven't found them, lad."  Bungo sighed, the sound faint, "We're still looking."

"Surely they're--"

"It was four days ago, lad.  I was calling to let you know.  We'll hold the memorial after your return."  There was silence from Frodo, as he stared at the wall, trying to get his breath back.  "Frodo?"

"I'm, I-I'm here, sir."

"I'm sorry, lad."

"It...thank you for, for calling. Bilbo just stepped out.  Do, do you want me to send, send someone to find him?"

"No, I'll wire him if I need to say anything."

Frodo nodded, "Thank you, Cousin."  He hung up, resting his hands on the table and letting his head hang down as he tried to pull his emotions under control.

"Frodo?" Sam asked, leaning over from where he’d just entered the room. "Frodo what's wrong?"

He shook his head, "There, there was, was an accident.  A boat capsized on the Brandywine."

Merry gaped at him, he and Pippin having followed Sam, "What was anyone doing on that river this time of year with the snowmelts?"

Frodo shook his head forcefully, drawing a deep breath which shook as he straightened.  He headed for the door without another word, pulling the door open and nearly colliding with Bilbo who blinked at him, "Frodo?"

The younger shireling didn't respond as he slipped past Bilbo and headed for the stairs to the roof.

Bilbo looked toward the other three in the room, "What happened?"

Merry shook his head, "Cousin Bungo actually placed a phone call here, and Frodo says there's been a capsizing on the Brandywine, but he didn't say anything else."

Frowning at his shoes, Sam didn't say anything and Pippin turned, slipping out the window and taking the fire escape to the roof. Finding Frodo, he sat down beside him, far enough away that he could be ignored.

Frodo was curled up, his knees drawn to his chest and his forehead resting on his knees, though he glanced toward Pippin when he heard him arrive, "I'll be alright, Pip."

About to say something about selling him a bridge, Pippin stopped. "Of course you will," he said instead and didn't move.

Frodo's mouth twisted and he buried his head against his knees again, "They're gone.  Bungo says they haven't found the bodies and it's been days."

"They could still surprise you," Pippin said faintly.

"Four days, Pippin.  My, my parents' boat capsized four days ago and there's been no sign," he tried to draw a breath but it caught and he curled further on himself.

Pippin scooted closer, leaning their shoulders together. "Bilbo will keep you," he said. "If you wanted. It might not help today or tomorrow. But whatever happens you'll have a home."

Frodo nodded very slightly, "I have, have other family who might as well.  I just, they're waiting on the memorial until we get back, but if, if I don't go back I don't have to think about it.  It's like, it's like they're still waiting at home, you know?"

"But you'll have to go home someday," Pippin said, voice still uncharacteristically soft.

"I know that," Frodo murmured, still not looking up.  "I just, it's got to be a mistake.  He said there was an emergency so they had to take the boat, but mum grew up around that river.  She would know better than that wouldn't she?"

"Sailors still drown," Pippin said. "No matter how good they are at something, people make mistakes, the unexpected happens. That doesn't ever mean it was their fault."

"And here I am all the way across the ocean when," he swallowed hard, shaking his head.  "Goddamnit."

"What could you have done?" Pippin asked.

"Nothing.  I just, I haven't seen them in months.  And now..." his voice caught.  "Pippin I don't know what to do."

"Breath," Pippin said. "Cry. Maybe eat something. But mostly just breath until it stops being hard and gets easy again."

Frodo choked on a bitter laugh, "Because it will get easy again?"

"Someday," Pippin assured.

"I don't know if I'm strong enough to do that, Pip."

"You'd make Samwise cry, saying that," Pippin said.

Frodo shook his head, "Oh Sam, he sees more in me than I think is actually there."

"I think he sees exactly what you both need in there," Pippin said, still watching Frodo.

Frodo went very still at that before he shook his head, feeling like he was far too close to saying things he actually thought about Sam, "Maybe so."

"Is that really so hard to believe?" Pippin asked, tilting his head over.

"No.  Sam always does see so much.  He's good, and gentle, and protective and helpful.  And," he stopped, shaking his head again.

Pippin almost said Frodo sounded in love and for the second time that day switched to his second thought. "And he's here for you."

His cousin drew a deep breath and nodded, "Yes.  I...I will be alright, Pippin.  It's just, it's just going to take time."

"You have it," Pippin replied. "Think you can handle Sam fussing over you yet?"

"I..."  Frodo finally nodded, "I think so, yes."

"Then come on," Pippin said. "He's probably flustered himself into a right panic by now."

Frodo hesitated before getting to his feet, running a hand over his face and turning toward the interior stairs, "Probably.  I should probably reassure him.  Can, can you explain to Bilbo and Merry?"

Pippin nodded, pushing himself to his feet as well. "I can keep them away if you like too."

"If, if you could?  At least for a little while," Frodo offered him a grateful look as he opened the door and stepped onto the staircase.

"Sure," Pippin said, hopping down the stairs to beat Frodo through the door.

Frodo managed a ghost of a smile as he followed Pippin, entering the apartment a minute or so behind him and heading for the room he had been sharing with Sam.  He paused at the door and glanced at Sam before slipping in and leaving the door ajar.

Sam was sitting on the edge of his bed, watching Frodo. "Are you... are you hanging in there?"

Frodo closed the door the rest of the way before moving over to his bed, "I, I think so?"

Sam hesitated, as Frodo had sat on the other bed. "What's wrong? What's happened?"

"My," his voice broke and he wrapped his arms around himself, "My parents.  They, they were on the boat.  It was four days ago and there's still no sign."

"Will there be a service?" Sam asked.

"They're, they're waiting for us to get back before having the memorial."

"Are we going back?" Sam asked.

Frodo's gaze darted to him, eyes wide, "I, I mean, yes?  Not, not before school ends I don't think.  And with everything going on with Fili and Kili I don't, I don't think Bilbo will be able to get away yet."

"That's a long time to withhold a service," Sam said, unsure about the idea.

Frodo raked his hands through his curls, digging his fingers into his scalp, "I, I don't know.  I just.  I," his voice caught.  "I don't want to go back.  But, but I have to, don't I?"

Hesitating for a long moment, Sam leaned forward. "You don't have to stay," he said finally. "If you can't."

Wide blue eyes came up to meet Sam's gaze, "It's the Shire, though, Sam.  How, how can I not?"

"You could stay here," Sam said but the words sounded pained.

 Frodo felt like something inside him cracked at that, "And, and what?  Not see the Shire again?  Not see you again?  Sam, I, I can't.  I can't stay there, but I can't not."

"Then we keep traveling," Sam said, even though every moment away from the Shire was an itch under his chest bone that hurt when he remembered the party tree or the rivers and the rolling hills. "We see the rest of the world until you can go back."

Frodo shook his head fiercely at that, "No. I, I won't ask that of you. Sam, the Shire is so much to you."

"But it's not the same if you're not there," Sam said and was surprised to realize he meant it.

The dark-haired Shireling gaped at him, trying to figure out what he could possibly say to that, "But...Sam, I can't.  I don't know if I'll ever be able to go back to the Shire.  Not, not long term at least.  It's so much a part of who you are.  You..."  He broke off and looked away feeling like he was going to say too much if this kept up.

Wavering again, Sam pushed himself to his feet and sat down next to Frodo. "It'll be alright, Frodo. One way or another."

Frodo gave up on thinking about what he was doing and leaned against Sam, burying his head against the other's shoulder, "You're too good, Sam.  Do, do you know that?"

"Hush, Frodo," Sam said, pulling on his shoulder. "I'm not all that."

"You are though," Frodo protested.  "I don't know what I'd do without you."

“Then don't think about it," Sam murmured. "Because you're not going to do anything without."

Frodo managed a fond smile at that, "Too good to me, Sam."  He wet his lips before speaking again, "We'll return to the Shire.  I'll, I'll wire Cousin Bungo that he doesn't need to postpone the service and we'll arrive when we can."

"Alright," Sam said, squeezing Frodo's shoulder again. "I don't know if you want to cry yet or not, but you can." It was like some sort of cue and some of the tension left him as he buried his head further against Sam's shoulder and let himself break.

Making what soothing sounds he could, Sam rocked Frodo back and forth for as long as he cried. After several minutes Frodo pulled back, wiping at his eyes and brushing ineffectually at Sam's shirt, "I've gotten you all wet."

"I can change if I need to," Sam shrugged. "It's alright."

"I can't believe they're gone." Sam nodded, unable to say anything so he just kept moving a hand in circles on Frodo's back. "It's ridiculous of me to think that if I don't go back they won't be dead, isn't it?"

"Perhaps," Sam said. "But for now maybe it's not a bad thing."

"Not a bad thing to live in denial?  That's something I haven’t heard before," Frodo managed a weak smile.

"For a little while," Sam amended. “It’s okay not to be okay, Frodo.”

"Oh, Sam," Frodo sounded fond as he leaned his head against the other's shoulder again letting himself pretend for just a moment before dismissing the thoughts once again.

-0-

Bilbo looked at Thorin over the dinner he'd finally managed to make for the other man.  He paused, poking at the food left on his plate before speaking, "Thorin?  I wanted to let you know, I have to return to the Shire.  Not for very long, I don't expect."

"Because of Frodo's parents," Thorin said, not asking. "How long shall it take?"

"I don't know.  Two to three weeks, likely.  It depends on what needs to be done beyond the memorial service once we're there."

Thorin nodded, not saying that the timing was wrong considering the trial was about to go to court. On the other hand, considering the consequences of the court it would be better for Bilbo to be far away. "Who will go with you?"

"Sam and Frodo.  Merry and Pippin are going to stay and complete the year."

Thorin nodded, poking at the food in front of him. "When do you leave?"

"Tuesday," Bilbo answered, looking down again.

Thorin considered. "The trial starts on Thursday."

Bilbo nodded, "I know.  I, I wish I could stay.  I can't let Frodo do this on his own, and he's been making sounds like he may wish to come back with me."

"You sound surprised by that," Thorin said, eyebrows going up.

"Well, yes and no.  He has so many people there who would be willing to take him in.  I'm not exactly guardian material," he shrugged.  "On the other hand, personally, given the choice between me and my father I'd choose me but I'm biased."

"No one is really guardian material here," Thorin said. "And I would chose you as well, but," he smiled. "I'm biased as well."

That earned a bit of a smile from Bilbo, "Thank you.  So we'll have to see to those arrangements while we're there, which means that it likely will be closer to three weeks.  And that's if nothing goes wrong."

 "Try not to let anything go wrong," Thorin said, leaning across the table.

Bilbo reached over to brush some of Thorin's hair back, "I shall do everything in my power to make sure that nothing happens."

"Good," Thorin rumbled deep down in his chest.

"Keep yourself intact for when I return," Bilbo murmured.

"I do promise to do my utmost," Thorin said, eye serious as he watched Bilbo.

"Good.  I don't want to be coming back here to more services."

"I will do everything in my power to not allow that to happen," Thorin said, cupping Bilbo's cheek with his large hand. “I truly promise that.”

Bilbo leaned into the touch, letting his eyes fall closed, "Thank you."

Desire to eat suddenly subsumed beneath another one, Thorin pushed himself to his feet, moving around the table with more grace than his stocky frame would imply. Bilbo pushed his chair back when Thorin rose, shifting in his chair to fully face the other, looking up at him.

"I shall miss you," Thorin said, eyes soft as he looked down.

"And I you," he murmured in response.  "I hate to leave just as the trial's starting."

"Your nephew needs your help," Thorin said, shifting closer again, and old fear from traveling across the ocean in a liner full of the sick beating in his chest. "I understand."

Bilbo rose, closing some of the distance between them with the motion, "We'll be alright.  I'll come back to you in hardly any time at all."

"Good," Thorin said, leaning his head down, hair brushing Bilbo's shoulders. "I do not like the thought of you an ocean away."

"It's only a couple of weeks," Bilbo replied mutedly, trying to convince himself as much as anything. “And I don't leave for a couple of days yet," Bilbo murmured.

"Then," Thorin said, eyebrow twitching up. "We'll have to take advantage of those days."

"I have some things that I'll need to do between now and then, but not too many," came the reply even as Bilbo slid closer.

"I'll see about clearing my calendar," Thorin rumbled again.

"Have you anything this evening?" Bilbo asked, a teasing hint entering his voice.

"No," Thorin said, hands settling on Bilbo's hips and holding onto him, expression soft. "Fili and Kili are home and there are no disasters tonight."

Bilbo let his arms lay loosely around Thorin's shoulders, "Good."

"However shall we pass the evening then?" Thorin asked, shifting closer but still not dropping his face.

"Well, we could finish dinner.  Or we could talk, or, we could forego both of those," Bilbo murmured.

"I'm not feeling hungry for food," Thorin said. "But thank you for making it."

"Well, there's leftovers for you to have later, then," Bilbo said softly, moving so he was pressed up against Thorin.

"Then I shall look forward to leftovers," Thorin said, finally leaning down to kiss Bilbo, dragging their mouths together. Bilbo made a soft sound in the back of his throat as he curled his fingers in Thorin's hair and pressed up into the kiss.

-0-

Frodo entered the lunchroom, relieved to see that Boromir was alone so far at their usual table.  He moved over and sat down next to the other, letting his head fall on his crossed arms as he murmured, "I am going to happily ignore everything in my life right now.  And nobility can go jump off a bridge."

"That good?" Boromir asked, carefully not reacting as he munched on a carrot slice.

"Worse," Frodo murmured, not entirely sure why he had thought coming to school before they left for the Shire was any sort of a good idea.

"I'm sorry to hear about your parents," Boromir said softly instead of asking what Frodo meant. His eyes strayed over to Aragorn again and he needed nobility to not go jumping off a cliff, especially if he wanted to figure out why Faramir was snarling at him and Eomer was avoiding him.

Frodo lifted his head enough to rest his chin on his crossed arms instead, "Thank you.  We're leaving Tuesday to go back to the Shire, Sam and Bilbo and I, that is."

"And I presume that has something to do with tossing nobility off a cliff?" Boromir asked, watching him.

"I told him I wasn't sure I wanted to go back to the Shire.  He, he offered to travel with me until I was ready to do so."  Frodo grimaced at that, "he loves the Shire.  More than I do. But he offered to leave it for me, if that's what I needed because 'it's not the same if I'm not there'. Just when I thought there was some chance that I might eventually get over him enough to live peaceably when he decides to get married."

Boromir blinked once at him. "Are you so certain he would go off and decide to get married?" he asked.

"I don't know.  But it's not like it's something I can just out and ask him." Fordo sighed, "if you'd asked me a week ago I would have been able to say yes to that question, now, now I don't know and I hate being confused, and it's just one more thing."

"You said that he said the Shire wasn't the same without you," Boromir said. "Have you ever actually implied to him anything about how you feel?"

"That would imply that I have even the slightest inkling of that much courage," Frodo answered with a shake of his head.

Boromir nodded, looking back over at Aragorn and tearing his eyes away. "Because so far it sounds like all you've done is shove him at pretty young lasses."

" _One_ pretty young lass who he had given indication he liked," the other protested, glancing at Boromir and then looking toward Aragorn.

"The point stands," Boromir said. "You could both be swimming in the mire of your own doubts."

"Or I could say something and completely mess up whatever it is that we have got."

Boromir shrugged, keeping an ear out for the sound of his brother, or Eowyn or Eomer as much as he was not looking at Aragorn anymore. "That's the risk you have to take, I suppose. Is it worth it or not?"

Frodo sighed, "And how have you been doing?"  He watched as Eomer entered the lunchroom and looked around, pausing when he spotted Boromir but moving to sit at a different table.

"I have no idea," Boromir admitted, having seen that as well, and considering the exasperated look Eowyn gave her brother before stomping over to sit next to Frodo.

Frodo glanced at Eowyn as Faramir appeared and settled across from her, "I take it Eomer still isn't talking to Boromir, then."

"No," she sighed.

"Why do you people talk about my life like you know more about it than I do?" Boromir asked, looking between them.

Faramir sighed, offering his brother a long look, "Because when I tried to explain it to you you told me I was seeing things."

"Which you are," Boromir protested and Eowyn calmly unfolded her sandwich and considered the other contents of her lunch, handing both Frodo and Faramir cookies that she had baked the night before, taking frustration out on chocolate chips and leaving them by her uncle's elbow.

Frodo murmured his thanks and Faramir offered her a smile before turning his attention back to his brother, "Of course I am.  Do you have another explanation?"

"I'm working on it," Boromir muttered and looked so annoyed when he looked across the room Eowyn finally handed him a cookie as well.

Merry slid into the seat across from Boromir, "What are you working on?  Is Eomer not joining us for lunch?"

Boromir shot another look at his brother. "Working on why he's not sitting with us, so far as I can tell."

Faramir shook his head, somewhere between frustrated and serene, "Yes something like that."

"Shouldn't you just ask him?" Merry suggested.

"That would the logical choice," Eowyn said and held a hand out for Merry's homework to check over before their class period.

He dug it out and passed it to her as Frodo spoke, "Not everyone is so direct." 

Merry shook his head, "Well, no, but it might be the best way to figure out what's going on in someone's head."

Looking between them, Boromir propped his chin up with one hand and sighed. "It's not like it's the end of the world either."

Faramir bit back the first thing he wanted to say about how it might not be the end of the world but it sure was the end of an opportunity if Boromir let it go.  He finally settled for shrugging, "Still.  You two have become decent friends, it would be a shame to let that go."

Boromir muttered something about how it was not his fault they stopped talking before decidedly changing the subject. But toward the end of lunch, when Eomer rose, Boromir followed him out of the lunch room.

Eomer heard him coming and stopped to wait for him, half turning, "Boromir."

"It's not terribly fair to stop talking to someone for no apparent reason," Boromir said, stepping up next to him.

Eomer blinked at him for a long moment, "No apparent reason?"

"That anyone has let me in on," Boromir added, not finishing that any reason given so far sounded insane to him.

The other young man shook his head and sighed, "Alright, maybe you're right.  I probably just misunderstood some things."

"Like what?" Boromir asked, leaning forward but with plenty of distance still between them.

Eomer looked at him for a long moment, "Coffee followed by an invitation to dinner with Faramir and Eowyn at your home."

For a long moment Boromir just stared at him before his eyes slowly widened. "And those were..."

"Apparently nothing," Eomer answered.  "As I said I must have misunderstood.  Just, just give me a few days to cool off and we'll be fine again."

"What do you think you misunderstood?" Boromir asked, reaching a hand out in case Eomer started to move away, prepared to yank him back.

"Well, coffee was an accident and a coincidence.  But you, you asked me to be the fourth so you wouldn't be a third wheel on a date our siblings were having." Eomer shook his head, "I suppose I should have taken you at your word then about that being the only reason."

Boromir leaned back on his heels, considering Eomer for a long moment. "I admit that it wasn't what I was thinking at the time."

Eomer considered him for a long moment, shrugging, "I was making assumptions I shouldn't have."

“Then just to be clear," Boromir started. "Why, exactly, did you get so angry?"

Eomer glanced away at that, looking caught somewhere between sheepish and wanting to snarl, "Because I was jealous."

Boromir rocked back again, feeling an itch somewhere below his chest bone at the idea someone could ever be jealous of him. "You shouldn't have been."

That earned an incredulous look, "Really?"

"Really," Boromir managed. "At least, I think anyway."

"Even with the way you were watching Aragorn and Arwen?"

"That was just watching," Boromir protested. "Alright, maybe Faramir is right and I am a little dense,” he added, a bit surly.

Eomer shrugged very slightly, "Maybe.  I never actually made myself clear either."

Boromir shifted again, looking up and down the hallway. "So to be clear. Dating. And jealous of Aragorn."

Eomer nodded very slowly, "Yes."

"Would you actually like to try that again with both of us aware of it?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, Eomer considered him for a moment, "Are you settling for me?"

"Not quite," Boromir said. "I don't know yet. I wasn't even aware this was something that was a possibility before."

"I won't be someone you settle for," Eomer replied simply, though there was an edge to his voice.

"Alright," Boromir said instead of protesting the thousand ways that neither of them could tell if he was settling. "I'm not saying this is going to work, alright?"

Eomer paused before nodding once, "Alright."

Hand twitching to move forward, Boromir carefully kept it at his side as he glanced up and down the hallway, struck by how stupid it was to be talking about this there. “I’m not good at these things,” he admitted. “But I want to see what could happen if we’re both actually aware that anything is.”

Eomer offered him a faint quirk of his lips, "I would too.  Maybe it doesn't work, but maybe it does."

"See?" Boromir said, spreading his arms. "That's the right attitude to have here." He wanted to reach forward and resolutely stayed still.

Eomer actually laughed, "Well as long as we're feeling optimistic about this, nothing could possibly go wrong."

"Sure," Boromir said, stomach clenching hard enough he was glad he barely ate.

"Well," Eomer hesitated, "if we're actually going to try this, what do you say to coffee that doesn't involve spying on our siblings?"

"They're going out to dinner in a few nights," Boromir said. "We could stay on the other side of town."

"It might be a nice surprise for them."

Boromir laughed, nodding as he shifted again, unsure whether to move forward or retreat. “Then I’ll see you after class?” he offered and Eomer nodded with a warm agreement and turned away before he panicked and ran. Eomer watched him go, hesitating before heading for his own class.

-0-

Balin sat in the brothers' apartment, winding one of the curls at the bottom of his beard around his thumb as he looked at Fili the night before the trial against Smaug, "Has Gandalf been over anything about presentation in court with you?"

"Yes?" Fili offered, circles under his eyes and his shoulders stooped. "In so much as that man can talk about presentation."

 "Which means only in a vague way that probably doesn't much apply to you, or consisted mostly of telling you to let him do the talking," Balin murmured.

"Something like that," Fili agreed. "So what would you tell me?" Balin had always sprouted advice and stories, or translations of Thorin’s heavy silences when Fili was a child and he wanted anything familiar.

"That you'll have a difficult time keeping your mouth shut.  They will do what they can to cast doubt on your testimony and what happened.  If Smaug gets on the stand, I can guarantee he will be at his most persuasive and sliest.  What you need to do is keep your responses restrained.  Even more than that, when you get on the stand keep calm.  You're good at that, better than most here."  He considered for a long moment, "Remember what actually happened, and tell it that.  Answer only the questions asked unless instructed differently. And no matter what is implied, keep your temper."

"Even though," Fili started and snapped his mouth shut. There was only so much truth he could tell when Smaug would tote out his relationship with Kili, and the truth of what had happened included too much of that. "It's Kili I'm worried about," he said finally.

"I'll speak with him as well," Balin said, pausing for a long moment as he tried to figure out what else he could tell the older of the brothers, "Hopefully Kili won't have to take the stand quite yet.  It should just be opening remarks tomorrow."

"I probably won't take the stand then either," Fili said, voice exhausted. "But I still have to sit there, where they can watch me."

Balin nodded, "And you can't react.  Not more than would be expected of someone shot by the bastard.  There was hope for a closed courtroom, but it wasn't obtained."

Fili nodded. "It's a circus, why would they close it?" His tone was strikingly light for how bitter he felt, like a heavy weight in his chest and Balin could only look at him.

"One had hoped that the presence of the press would be minimized in this sort of situation, the last thing they need is for the public to end up enflamed in one direction or another, but as you said, it's a circus."

"Then I suppose that means we should give them a good show," Fili said, smile strained. "So long as it doesn't turn against us."

"Make sure there's no doubt in anyone's mind that you're the victim," Balin advised.  "It won't be easy and it will go against so much that you hold onto, but it's the one way to keep them on your side."

Fili almost asked how much any of them were victims but nodded. "I used to be able to con you that I was the victim when I drove my uncle crazy."

Balin offered him a bit of a smile at that, "Yes, you were quite good at it too.  Tap into that talent again, lad."

"It's the first con I learned," he said with a strained smile.

"You'll be alright, Fili.  Gandalf seems confident, and the other lawyer should be here relatively soon."

"Whoever she is," Fili added. "Gandalf is like a bag of cats when you ask him a question." He waved his hands around, wincing when it pulled the still healing wound a little too much.

Balin snorted and nodded, "That's far kinder than what your uncle or my brother has to say about him."

"He's not so bad as that," Fili protested quietly. “Even if he is mad, he’s not so bad.”

"Only when he doesn't want to tell us something.  You know how your uncle gets about withheld information," Balin said, shrugging very slightly.

"Angry and bitter and as likely as anything to go for the nearest torch?" Fili offered and sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

"Unfortunately that's a very apt description of Thorin.  Would that it were not so,” Balin said, shaking his head slightly. He had watched Thorin grow up and still spent nights thinking back on what could have possibly changed him from the bitter soul he had grown into.

"Ah, but he would not be Thorin then," Fili said, looking down at his hands and the corner of his mouth twisting up.

Balin offered a wry smile at that, "Very true, but it would make for easier interactions were he not.”

They sat in silence for a few moments more, Fili counting his breaths.

“You’ll be fine,” Balin said and Fili’s smile was strained when he looked back up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... funny story...
> 
> Meadow discovered today that we were missing an entire slew of scenes from what was posted/on the computer when she went digging back in our skype history. And this is why VS should never be put in charge of things when emotionally compromised/doing grad school. We apparently lose entire chapters. 
> 
> We hope you enjoyed the lost chapter of Starlight!


	23. It Might be Worth it to Gain an Ally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YO: A note from your authors: This story is not abandoned or forgotten. Your authors wrote themselves into a corner during a very stressful time in their lives and thus had to move on from this story for a while. We think we've discovered what we need to to fix the issue, but that's a pretty recent realization and we're trying to finish up a couple other stories first. So it might still take us a while but we do plan on coming back to this story and am very sorry to everyone who's waited or feared we abandoned this story.

Boromir focused on the book he had, trying to catch up on homework in the few minutes he had while waiting for Merry and Pippin outside their apartment. They had been happily telling him the day before about the trial that was starting and considering the last apartment building had been burned to the ground, Boromir insisted they should have someone walk them to school with Frodo and Sam gone.

The door opened a handful of minutes later and Merry stepped out of the building, holding the door for Pippin and shifting his books around, "Morning, Boromir."

"Good morning," Boromir greeted as Pippin bounced over cheerfully, curls a mess around his face. With Bilbo gone, Ori had mostly been sleeping in the apartment with them just to make sure nothing went wrong.

"Morning, Boromir," he said brightly. "I’ll have to show you this afternoon, Bifur made a toy for me. It's the most wonderful demon."

"Demon?" Boromir asked, looking down.

"His carvings are a bit macabre, but they're some of the best I've ever seen," Merry supplied, grinning.  "Cousin Bilbo has a complex puzzle that has some odd carvings along the outer edges."

"I suppose--" Boromir started, movement catching his eye and he turned suddenly as a car barreled past on the street. "Get down," he said, shoving Pippin away and knocking the Shireling into Merry.

He had time to see the glint of metal before a ripping pain expanded from his chest and leg and Boromir only vaguely thought he heard Pippin screaming.

Merry was nearly hyperventilating as he shoved himself to his feet, seeing the car round the corner, he tried to calm himself enough to face his younger cousin, "Pippin, look at me.  Run back.  Run back to the apartment and get help.  We need, we need an ambulance and help."

Pippin stared at him but didn't move, still trying to stop from screaming when the door slammed open, Bifur and Bofur running out from where they had been watching the door. Bifur planted himself in front of Boromir, scanning the street with one hand on his gun under his coat, ready to fire on anyone who tried to come back, as he gestured for Bofur to get to the phone.

Bofur nodded once, bolting back inside and calling for the medical aid that was needed, hoping they would arrive in time.  Merry's gaze darted to Bifur, but he turned his attention back to Pippin, trying to block out the image of Boromir bleeding out a few feet away, "C-come on, Pip.  You can do this, focus on me. It'll be alright."  He hesitated for the briefest of moments, "He'll be alright. And we're alright.  Breathe in and out for me."

"But," Pippin started and took a deep breath, shaking all the way in and Bifur looked over his shoulder, gently touching Pippin's shoulder with his free hand before gesturing to Boromir, trying to show Pippin and Merry where to apply pressure.

For a moment Pippin just stared at him in shock and horror before shuffling over, blood staining the knees of his pants and his hands as he pressed shaking hands down. "Will he be alright?" he asked and Bifur swallowed before nodding, but the motion was jerky.

Merry hesitated for the briefest of moments, flinching at the feel of blood on his hands as he pressed down to stem some of the blood flow.  He looked at his younger cousin, having caught the hesitation in Bifur's nod, and unable to reassure Pippin further.  Bofur emerged from the building, moving over and taking up position next to Bifur, "Ambulance is on its way."

Bifur nodded. "How long?" Pippin asked, voice high and reedy.

"A handful of minutes," Bofur answered, his voice ever so slightly strained.

"Merry," Pippin said, still too high. "Is he breathing? I can't even tell if he's breathing."

Merry nodded, though he was unsure of the fact himself, and forced his voice to stay calm, "He is, Pip.  He's still breathing, his heart's still beating."

"Are you sure?" Pippin asked and Bifur leaned back against him as suddenly the ambulance came shrieking around the corner.

Merry nodded as the ambulance screeched to a halt next to the curb and the men inside hopped out and grabbed the stretcher they had to move Boromir into the vehicle.

Stumbling back, Pippin let them do their work, hands hanging at his side as Bofur and Bifur both pretended they hadn't been standing over a bleeding body with hands on their guns. Merry pulled back out of the way, hesitating because of the blood on his hands for the briefest of moments before catching Pippin by the arm and pulling him closer.

"He's going to be alright, isn't he?" Pippin asked and Bifur reached out, shuffling them both back inside and pointing to the nearest sink. He didn't even try to separate them.

Merry got the water on, managing not to spread the blood on his hands too much as he nodded, "Of course he is, Pip.  They're taking him to the hospital now.  They, they know how to help him there."

"There was a lot of blood," Pippin said, desperate. "And--and with Frodo's parents--"

Merry turned toward Pippin, pulling him around to face him, "Pippin, look at me.  Breathe.  Boromir is going to be fine.  He was still breathing when they took him to the hospital and they'll know how to help him."

Pippin took a shaky breath and looked down. "He only came because he wanted to make sure we were alright."

Swallowing hard, Merry nodded very slightly, "I, I know. Let's, let's get cleaned up and see if there's any chance we can go check on him, alright?"

"Alright," Pippin managed, nod shaky and he managed a smile. "We should bring him something. That Ori baked."

"That's a good idea," Merry agreed, coaxing Pippin to getting cleaned up.

Once his hands were finally clean, Pippin glanced down at his shirt. "We should," he started, gesturing. "And find Ori." Merry nodded very slightly, startling as frantic knock came at the front door, Pippin's head snapping over as Bifur opened the door.

Faramir stumbled in, looking pale from the blood he'd seen on the sidewalk and he froze completely when he spotted Merry and Pippin, "Where's Boromir?" His question was greeted with a handful of Shireling, Pippin launching himself at Faramir.

Catching Pippin in his arms and pulling him close, Faramir glanced toward Merry who looked on the verge of his own breakdown, "Merry?"

"He...They..."

Faramir felt himself sway very slightly, "Is he--"

"He was, he was alive when the, the ambulance left," Merry finally managed, his face crumpling and Faramir drew a deep breath before tilting his head sharply to indicate that Merry should join them.  That was all it took before the other young shireling was also wrapped around him.

"Are either of you hurt?"

Pippin shook his head quickly as Ori appeared on the stairs, having heard the door open and close several times. "Faramir?" he asked in surprise to see him.

Making certain his voice wouldn't crack, Faramir looked up at his friend, offering him a weak smile that he didn't feel in the least, "Hello, Ori."

"What's happened?" Ori asked, taking the stairs down quickly.

"It's, I'm," he shook his head, "I'm not completely sure."  He looked down at the Shirelings and then back up at Ori, "But Boromir's hurt.  That's, that's all I know."

Ori blinked once, looking at the three of them and the way Pippin was still gulping down breaths. He quickly considered who was still in the building, as Gandalf had arrived early that morning, in a rickety car he insisted was all they needed, pilling Thorin, his nephews, Dis and Dwalin into it. Balin had left even earlier.

"Bofur," he called down, spotting him near his cousin.

Bofur startled slightly, looking up, "Yeah?"

"You can drive Thorin's car, right?" Ori asked.

He hesitated for a moment and then nodded, "Yeah, I can."

"We should get them to the hospital," Ori said and took a step back. "I'll grab extra shirts and be down."

Bofur nodded, "I'll go get the car started then."  He checked his gun on his way out the door.

When Ori came hurrying back down the stairs, handing Merry and Pippin new shirts, Pippin sniffed and tried to compose himself again. "We didn't mean to put you out--"

"It's fine," Ori said, carefully focusing on smiling. "We'll get you there in no time."

Merry nodded shakily as he pulled away from Faramir to take the shirt from Ori, his voice small, "Thank you."

"Come on, Bofur should have the car ready," Ori said, glancing at Faramir.

Faramir glanced at Ori, nodding slightly as he ushered the Shirelings out to where the car was waiting. Closing the door behind them with a nod to Bifur, Ori slide into the front of the car next to Bofur. "Thank you," he said under his breath. "Especially as it's technically Thorin's car.'

"I think he'll understand," Bofur murmured in response, pulling away from the curb and heading for the hospital.

"He will," Ori agreed, leaning back. "I'm just glad you can actually drive."

Bofur nodded slightly, glancing in the rearview mirror briefly.  They pulled up to the hospital a short while later, Merry pausing before climbing out of the back seat. Pippin slid out, dragging Faramir with him.

Faramir hesitated for the briefest of moments before entering the hospital and making his way over to the reception, "Excuse me?  I think, I think my brother was brought in a short while ago. I...He's blond, about eighteen, would have been--" He broke off and glanced at Merry who supplied the answer.

"Multiple gunshots."

The receptionist looked between them before nodding. "Yes, he came here. He's still in surgery but you may wait if you like. We will let you know." Faramir nodded shakily before stepping back, guiding Merry and Pippin over to the chairs in the waiting area.

-0-

Fili tried to keep his attention on Gandalf, who was arguing with the sleek lawyer that Smaug had hired and not the way that Smaug was smirking across the room, or the way Dwalin's eyes were hard behind him in the audience, Thorin's face bland and Kili looking sick, compulsively swallowing every few minutes until one of Thorin's hands rested on his knee.

Following the opening remarks, shortly after noon, the judge called for a recess, the case would reconvene in an hour at which time the defense would present its first witness.  As the courtroom emptied, Smaug excused himself from his lawyer.  Having pled not guilty and posted bail, he was watched but not kept under lock and key during the trial.  He leaned against the wall int he courthouse lobby, his gaze following Thorin and his lips curling into a hint of a smile.

Thorin hesitated when he spotted him before slowly approaching. "At least I assume you will not stab anyone here?"

"You say that as though I've done so before," Smaug said, lazily and well aware of where he was as he answered.

"How could I make such an assumption?" Thorin muttered, eyebrow arched underneath his long and dark hair.

"I've no idea," came the drawled response.  Smaug's gaze seeking out Thorin's nephews, "Your sister-sons are doing well, it would seem."

"No thanks to any action ever taken by you," Thorin said, Dwalin hovering behind his shoulder but far enough away to be no participant in the conversation.

"Well, we've never much seen eye to eye on what is and isn't good for your family, have we," Smaug replied with a shrug.

"I like to think I have the better claim for knowing that," Thorin said, voice dropped low.

"And yet, it could be argued that you didn't know the most crucial thing about them until I mentioned it," Smaug replied, his mouth twisting into a smirk.  He let his gaze sweep around the lobby, "Is your waiter not here, then?"

"Why would he be?" Thorin asked. "This is between us, not anyone else."

"And is he not one of you?" Smaug's brow rose, "I had heard tell he was living in your building now."

"It is a building," Thorin said. "Not an affiliation."

Smaug considered that, tilting his head to one side ever so slightly, "So you aren't sleeping with someone the same age as your nephew?"

Thorin blinked once, the only indication he had heard, ignoring the violent twist to his stomach. "You seem awfully willing to accuse people of sleeping around."

Smaug rolled his shoulder, "I'm highly confident in my sources."

"Your sources?" Thorin asked with a mocking chuckle. "And what are those?"

"You genuinely believe I would tell you that?" Smaug shook his head, "Do wish Mr. Baggins well from me when he returns from his trip."

Something faltered in Thorins' expression but he did not let the smile fall away. "Funny, that you asked if he was here first."

"I found it a handy time for him to have left," the taller man answered, lips curling into a smile though his green eyes were cold.  "Though I was surprised that not all of his young cousins left with him."

"Was that a threat?" Thorin asked in a low growl as Ori slipped into the courthouse. He took one look at Smaug and Thorin and moved over to Dwalin, pulling him down by the shoulder to whisper quickly.

"In a setting such as this?"  Smaug tipped his head back and laughed, "You really think I would be so foolish?  It was simply an idle remark."  His eyes tracked Ori's motion even as he spoke

"Indeed," Thorin said, Fili having moved to hear what Ori and Dwalin were discussing. "As all your remarks ever are."

"Always," Smaug agreed.  "Well, as we've only the hour for lunch and I would prefer not to spend that whole time sparring with, I'll excuse myself now.  It appears there's an issue arising among your people."

Thorin's dark eyes watched him warily before turning back to Dwalin. "What's happened?" he snapped and Ori startled and looked over.

"There was an attack this morning," he said, "A drive by. It seemed to be aimed at the two Shirelings, but a classmate was the one hit. He's at the hospital, and they are too."

Dis reached them in time to hear that, and she darted a glance toward Smaug's retreating figure, "Who's with them?"

"Not one of us," he said. "Bofur and I were going to sit with them but I wanted to make sure you knew." He paused, glancing to Thorin. "We have your car," he added. Thorin blinked once at that, almost protesting but he only nodded.

"Merry and Pippin are un-hurt?" Dis clarified, running her fingers over her left braid before she caught herself and forced her hand down.

"Yeah," Ori nodded. "The guy who got shot though," and Kili was listening, having noticed the group that the Shirelings often hung out with, without actively joining them. "Boromir. He's Denethor's son."

Thorin stared at him a long moment. "The politician?"

"The one and the same," Ori agreed. "If he starts coming after Smaug--"

"That's a lot more pressure," Thorin agreed.

"Can we prove it was Smaug, beyond the not so coincidental timing of it, do we have any grounds to offer him as the one at fault?" Balin asked from next to his brother.  "If we finger him to a politician I mean."

"It might be worth it to gain an ally," Thorin said.

"Especially with the amount of pressure that I'm sure Smaug is exerting on this case himself," Dis agreed.

"I hate to say it," Fili said, recognizing the name. "But we should probably tell Bard and Thranduil, as they know what's going on, to go and talk to him."

His mother glanced toward him and then to Thorin, "He's right.  It might be worth it for the chance of an ally that powerful."

"See if you can ahold of them," Thorin said, looking at Ori. "And please do offer any condolences possible, if you have the chance."

"Right," Ori nodded, looking at Fili and Kili. "Good luck," he added, heading back for the door.

-0-

Boromir wasn't sure the exact moment where he went from unconscious to awake, but he knew by the time he opened his eyes, Faramir was sitting by his bedside. Faramir offered him a shaky smile, "Oh thank god, you're awake."

"I'm awake," Boromir agreed, voice feeling slow and slurred. "How're you?"

"Relieved.  So very relieved."

"The others--Merry and Pippin," Boromir said and tried to push himself up.

"Hey, hey stay down.  They’re alright.  They’re unhurt and they'll be glad to know you're awake," Faramir replied, placing a gentle hand on his brother's shoulder.

"But they're alright?" Boromir confirmed again.

His brother nodded, "They've finally gone to sleep.  But yes, they're alright."

Boromir deflated on the bed, wincing. "Ow."

"Careful.  Please, be careful," Faramir murmured.  "You got badly hurt."

"How badly hurt?" Boromir asked, though he was starting to feel the points of pain.

"Multiple gunshots," Faramir finally managed.  "It was a drive-by shooting outside of the apartment apparently.  Leg, chest, handful of wounds."

"But I'm still alive?" Boromir managed weakly.

Faramir's voice cracked as he answered, "Yes, you're still alive."

"Good," Boromir murmured. "Then why do you still look so sad?"

"Because I was so scared you weren't going to be," Faramir answered after a moment.

Boromir twitched a hand up, grabbing Faramir's. "Here now," he said. "Remember that I said I wasn't going anywhere?"

His brother twined their fingers together, managing a faint smile, "I, I do.  And I'm so glad you didn't."

"You've always worried too much," Boromir said, voice sounding distant again before he forced himself to focus.

"Well, someone's got to," Faramir answered shakily.  "Get some rest, yeah?"

"I feel like there's nothing else I'm going to be doing for a while," Boromir started to say when Denethor slammed into the room, hair a wild mess around his face.

Faramir startled, instinctively drawing his hand back from Boromir's and leaning back to get out of his father's way.  Denethor barely glanced toward his youngest son as he reached Boromir's side, "I came as soon as I heard.  The doctors say you'll be alright, thank god."

Carefully not wincing, Boromir nodded. "Yes," he agreed. "I'll be all right."

"When they release you, you should come home, rest and heal," Denethor said, ignoring as Faramir stood and slipped away.

Boromir blinked and took a deep breath, biting back a pained sound when that pulled on his chest. "I'll think about it," he said, as non-committal as possible.

"It would do you good," his father insisted.

"Can we talk about it later?" Boromir asked, hand coming up to cover his chest.

Denethor leaned back slightly, but nodded, "Of course,” he said, giving up more easily than his son had expected him too. Consider it at least."

"I'll consider it," Boromir said and that promise at least was simple. It would be easier on Faramir to not have him there, but the thought of leaving him alone was worse than the worry of being a burden and a problem.

"I'll see to the medical costs, of course," Denethor assured.  "How on earth did you get yourself so seriously injured?"

"I don't know, rightly," he said. "I was picking some class mates up."

"Class mates who would get shot at?" He looked skeptical of the wisdom in that.

"Well, I can't say I was expecting that," Boromir muttered. "They're not from town, I just wanted to make sure they were safe."

"Well, it would seem you've done that.  Or I rather hope you did, considering the state you put yourself in."

"I did," Boromir confirmed.

Denethor nodded, "Good."

"I think they're here, if you'd like to meet them," Boromir said, not expecting it.

His father shook his head, "No, I think it is best you rest.  Perhaps I'll meet them at a later date."

"Yeah," Boromir agreed, not believing it for a second.

Outside the door, Pippin knocked his feet against the back of the bench. "Are you sure we shouldn't go in?"

Faramir nodded firmly, "Wait until his guest leaves."

"Isn't that your dad?" Pippin asked.

His jaw twitched very slightly at that before nodding again, "Yes."

Pippin tilted his head back to look at him. "That good?" he asked, softly.

Faramir shrugged slightly, "Father and I...have never seen eye to eye."

"Faramir?" Eowyn called down the hall, small bundle of flowers in one arm as she increased her speed. "What are you doing here? You weren't at school today."

He looked up, startled, and glanced at the Shirelings before moving to meet her, "I...Boromir's been hurt.  I've been waiting for him to wake most of the day."

Eomer shot him a surprised look at that, as he came up behind his sister, "What happened?"

"He, he was shot protecting Merry and Pippin.  He's awake n--" before he finished speaking, Eomer had slid past him to the room Merry and Pippin were sitting outside of. Pippin raised a hand, about to tell him not to go in and stopped.

"Is he alright?" Eowyn asked.

Faramir ran a hand through his hair and then nodded, "The doctors seem to think he will be.  There were several bullets, but he should heal, and he finally woke."

"Several bullets?" Eowyn asked, eyes widening slightly in surprise at the fact it was more than one. "Who on Earth would shoot him?"

Faramir hesitated, shaking his head, "They were aiming for the Shirelings."

"Why?" she asked, sitting down hard next to Pippin before shaking her head. "But... you are all alright? And Boromir is healing?"

Faramir nodded very slightly, Merry backing him up, "We're alright, and Boromir's going to be."

Considering him, Eowyn tilted her head. "Then why are you out here?"

Merry glanced at Faramir and then back at Eowyn, "Their father's in there right now."

Eomer pushed his way into Boromir's room, barely noticing the other person there, "You got yourself _shot_?"

"I didn't get," Boromir protested, thrown to see Eomer there. "I was. This wasn't entirely a conscious choice."

"You're still shot," Eomer protested, crossing the room swiftly as Denethor turned, his eyebrows drawing downward into a faint scowl.

"I wish I could deny that," Boromir managed. "What are you doing here?"

"Eowyn and I were here to see our cousin and we ran into Faramir," Eomer answered, looking Boromir over with a faint frown.

"Oh, how is he doing?" Boromir asked.

"We haven't actually made it to his room," Eomer admitted.

"I'm flattered," Boromir said, faintly.

Denethor let his gaze travel over Eomer, "I'm not certain we've been introduced."

Eomer returned the gaze levelly before extending his hand, "Eomer, I go to school with your sons."

Pausing for a moment, the older man finally shook his hand, "It is good to know that Boromir has friends willing to come to him when he is hurt."

"He is Theoden's nephew," Boromir added.

Denethor's brows rose very slightly at that, "Your uncle is an intelligent man, a good lawyer."

"Thank you, sir," Eomer answered, his expression never changing.

Boromir's eyes darted between them. "Father," he said after a beat. "I will consider what you've said, but I am tired now. It was good to see you."

Denethor glanced at his son before nodding, "Of course.  Take care, my son."

"I believe no damage should be able to come to me here," Boromir said.

His father paused for another moment and then left, Eomer watching him go. "You don't have to leave yet," Boromir said, though he sank further back. “I just… can’t. With him. Right now.”

"You look like you could use that rest, though," Eomer responded, turning back to the bed and resting his hand on the back of a chair.

"I'll get plenty," Boromir said. "I won't be going anywhere after all."

Eomer paused before taking the seat that Faramir had vacated earlier, "I still can't believe you managed to get shot."

"It seemed like a decent idea at the time," he managed, flipping one hand up weakly.

"Well, it worked," Eomer said.  "Merry and Pippin don't look like they've even a scratch on them."

"Thank god for that," Boromir said, watching him. "You came in here furious,” he said a shade warily.

"Oh I still am.  Because of all the idiotic, sacrificial, suicidal things to do this ranks pretty damn high."

"It," Boromir started. "It wasn't suicidal."

"How many times were you shot?" Eomer replied, eyebrows drawing together.

"Three, I think," Boromir answered.

Eomer raked a hand through his hair at that answer, "You are the luckiest bastard I think I know."

"If I was lucky I'd have another father," Boromir said and then winced. "That's not what I meant."

That earned a long blink, "Perhaps we need to talk when you're dosed on medicine more often.  That was a very honest comment."

"No," Boromir said, shaking his head. "Honest comments are not what I should be giving out at this point.”

Eomer's eyebrows twitched upward slightly at that, "Really?  Well, are you lucky with your dad then?”

For a long moment Boromir only stared at him, mind too slow and hurting too much to laugh it off as he was supposed to. "He likes you," he said instead. "Because he thinks your uncle, your family, is powerful, or influential enough that you would matter."

That earned a frown, "So the only people he considers worth liking are those that can further, what, his political goals?"

"More or less," Boromir said after a beat, fingers twisting around the sheet because they are least hurt less to move.

"Where does that put you and your brother?" Eomer asked before he thought about it.

"You do remember we don't live with him?" Boromir returned, bitterness seeping into his voice.

"He seemed worried about you," Eomer replied.

"And I'm the golden son," Boromir replied, not quite looking at him. "When he conveniently forgets that I was the one who hired lawyers to take Faramir's custody away from him."

Eomer watched him for a moment, "That was last year, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Boromir said.

"What, um, what happened there?" Eomer asked, remembering what his uncle said vaguely.

Boromir shook his head slightly. "It--it goes back too long. Our father only thinks he has one son and treats Faramir like... like a mistake, like a stranger. He's nearly killed him."

Eomer's eyes narrowed at that, "That..."  He snapped his mouth shut, trying to find words, "I can't imagine cutting myself off even partially from my parents voluntarily, I wasn't given much choice in the matter, but more than that I can’t imagine staying in a place that viewed Eowyn as lesser.  Both you and Faramir are intelligent, strong men deserving of respect, and you've done well by your brother from what I've seen."

Boromir blinked at him. "He still almost died," he said. "That's not doing very well by him."

Eomer considered that and then shook his head, "You got him out of that situation though."

"He could have died," Boromir repeated again, as if it hadn't already been painfully clear. "And I would have let it happen if it had been only a little off either way."

" _Let_ it happen?" Eomer frowned at that, "Boromir, you can't blame yourself for everything your father did to your brother."

"Even though I failed?" Boromir asked and he twitched, like an aborted attempt to stand before remembering he could not.

“You don't actually see where you succeeded in this, do you?" Eomer said, shaking his head very slightly.

"I almost didn't," Boromir protested, that imagined failure worse than any real success he gained.

Pausing to consider that and to try and think how he would have reacted had Eowyn been in a similar situation, Eomer nodded, "That must have been terrifying.  You did save him, though, and you've kept doing so."

"I'm not thinking I'm all that effective at saving people," Boromir said, woozy and he waved a hand around the room to indicate exactly what he meant.

Eomer snorted, "Well, you do manage to hurt yourself in the process, but you seem pretty good at getting others out of harm's way."

"The blood's not intentional," is what Boromir managed to say.

That earned a wry smile, "I would hazard that injuring yourself isn't intentional in this situation.  Or I rather hope it isn't at least."

"I'm not really sucidal," Boromir rumbled.

"Good," Eomer said.  "Just self-sacrificial."

Boromir blinked at him, and then frowned, trying to figure out why Eomer was there. "I didn't believe Faramir when he said you were jealous. I'm still not sure why you came storming in here."

"Because I heard you'd been shot and I wanted to see with my own eyes that you were alright, or at least in a state where you could heal."

"That's only addressing part of the statement," Boromir mumbled, voice far from strong.

Eomer ran a hand over the back of his neck, watching Boromir, "You didn't believe I was jealous.  I'm not certain what to say to that beyond the fact that I was."

"It's new," Boromir said. "I think. Unless I really am an idiot."

"Me being jealous of you?"  Eomer nodded slightly, "Yeah, that's new."

"Anyone," Boromir corrected.

"Okay, that I find hard to believe."  He paused, "Or maybe less hard.  You don't really let anyone see who you are, so unless jealousy is entirely based on the physical attributes and that sort of desire?"  Eomer shrugged, "It's possible it's new."

Boromir looked at him. "Why did you bother to find out?"

"I guess because of how we really met.  I mean, spying on our siblings' date wasn't exactly an expected meeting, but it was enough to spark my interest.  I hadn't honestly expected to see you there, and our conversation was interesting and, well, I wanted to get to know you better.  I still do."

"I don't, I don't get that."

Eomer leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, "You don't?"

"No," Boromir admitted. "I can't do anything for you."

"But I don't want you to do anything for me," Eomer answered, looking vaguely confused.

Boromir stilled, pain nagging at the back of his mind. "But," he started and stared instead. "But--"

"But?" Eomer shifted under the look.

"I think," Boromir said finally, shocked at the confusion and finally starting to understand himself. "That's going to take me a while to get my head around."

The other nodded slightly, "I can, I can understand that.  Will you give me the chance to try to show you that?"

"Well I'm not mobile at the moment," Boromir allowed because otherwise he probably would have started running.

"Is that permission to come see you again?" Eomer asked.

Boromir nodded though he looked unsure. Eomer offered him a faint smile at that, "I'll definitely be here again, then."

"Yeah," Boromir said. "Alright."

Pausing for another moment, Eomer finally pushed himself to his feet, "Get well soon."

Boromir blinked at him before smiling. "Thanks."

"Do you want me to send the Shirelings in on my way out?" Eomer asked, glancing toward the door in surprise that they hadn't been interrupted.

"Please," Boromir said, "And--I hope your cousin starts to fell well soon."

That earned a weak smile from Eomer, "Thank you.  Maybe he'll be strong enough to come home for a while soon."  He shook his head and slipped out of the room, letting Merry and Pippin know that Boromir was still awake.

Eowyn still sat by Faramir, and had watched Denethor breeze by without a word. "And how are you, brother?"

Eomer looked in their direction, blinking for a moment, "I had expected you to have gone to Theodred's room already."

Faramir's eyes widened slightly at that and he looked to Eowyn, "I'm sorry, I've kept you from your cousin."

"You can come with us, if you like," Eowyn said instead. "Or wait here a while longer. I expect you to come to dinner with us though."

"I wouldn't want to be an imposition," Faramir said, hesitating.

"You won't be," she said quite firmly. "In fact, I'm insistent on dinner at least." She looked up to see Ori approaching and shifting from foot to foot.

Faramir looked in that direction and finally nodded, "I'll be here after you've seen your cousin.  I should let Boromir know after all."

"Alright," Eowyn said, running a hand over his shoulder as she rose, nodding to Ori before striding down the hallway.

Eomer followed his sister, glancing back to see Faramir offering Ori a shaky smile.  Faramir ran a hand through his hair, "Hey.  Thank you again."

"Yeah," Ori said and sat down next to him, looking over. "I spoke to your father."

The younger man fell very still at that, "Oh?"

"Sorry," Ori said. "It was manipulative. But your father is powerful enough in certain circles. I told him that from all possible accounts it was likely his son was shot by Smaug in retaliation, as a warning, for taking him to court."

"That's going to end up one of two ways, I hope you know what you may have opened up," Faramir murmured.

"I have high hopes for one of those ways," Ori agreed. "Dare I ask what the other may be?"

Faramir rubbed his eyes wearily, "He'll either bring his influence down against Smaug, or he'll decide you lot are responsible for being the reason Boromir endangered himself and he'll turn that power against you all too."

"I am certain it's evident which we hope for," Ori said. "I hope I charmed him enough that he believes the first. But if not, we have had more powerful men hate us longer, and harder."

"Good luck," he paused, "I'll try to remember not to mention that you used Boromir as political leverage.  He won't appreciate it."

Ori looked at him sideways. "Smaug has killed many before. He's threatened the Shirelings several times and he shot Fili. His killed people in my family." He shrugged, a tiny, tight motion of his shoulders. "Is it so bad to be used as leverage?"

Faramir's eyes narrowed very slightly, "My brother could have died this morning and very nearly did.  Your decision when that happened was to go to the father who nearly killed me through neglect and who we have finally gotten away from, mostly, and use my brother's injury to direct Denethor's anger at your enemy."  He pushed himself to his feet, "You'll excuse me if I find that hard to swallow."

"It's not right," Ori agreed though his own eyes had narrowed. " _Nothing_ is. If it means your father can use the power he has for something good for once, if it means Smaug won't be shooting people down in the streets anymore than I honestly don't care what I do."

"Well wonderful for you to be able to justify that. My father doesn't do good, not anymore.  He does what he thinks benefits him, and what he thinks will keep Boromir safe. Perhaps that will get Smaug off the streets, but don't expect it to keep you and yours on them."

Ori watched him for a long moment, elbows braced on his knees and hands clasped. "I never wanted you or your family to be involved in this," he said finally. "I really didn't. I didn't want your brother hurt."

Faramir sighed, shaking his head, "I know.  The fact of it is, though, is that we were involved and you pulled us further in."

"Yeah," Ori said, letting out a long breath. "We're getting alarmingly good at that," he said, thinking about Azog laughing at their doorstep, flashes of pale blond hair and wide eyes seen through the window.

"Look, Ori, it's not your fault, not really, that Boromir's hurt.  But it is your fault that Denethor is involved and now has more leverage to use to convince Boromir to come home--if he ever figures out how to twist that knife correctly," Faramir said, shoulders sagging.

"I thought you had more trust in your brother than that," Ori said, eyebrow going up. "You think he would abandon you that easily?"

"I can almost guarantee he's already considering how not to be a burden while he's recovering.  And he might even be considering Father's house for the duration."  Faramir shook his head, "It's not that I don't trust Boromir.  It's that I don't trust the limits that Father might push to get him home and keep him there."

“You're allowed to fight back, you know," Ori said, tone mild.

Faramir's jaw tensed at that, "I'm not going to roll over if that's what you're implying.  But there's only so many arguments I have to counter anything."

"So chain him to the bed and feed him soup," Ori shrugged, a threat he had heard thrown up and down the stairs growing up.

"You realize I can't cook, right?  He'd be better cared for at Father's house.  And I know that," Faramir shook his head again, looking toward Boromir's room.

"Can Eomer cook?" Ori asked. "You're not really alone anymore."

"I don't--I can't..."  He shook his head, "I can't do this now."

"I used to think I could make people promises," Ori said. "I'm not so sure anymore but if this trial doesn't kill all of us, I will make you dinners to last for a week with an icebox if I have to, alright?"

That earned a wry smile, "Thank you."

"Have to survive first," Ori said, dropping his head down between his shoulders. "But I will."

Faramir hesitated before resting a hand on Ori's shoulder and drawing back again, "Just worry about making it through, alright?"

"I don't envy you your family," Ori said. "But by god, I think I have too many cousins inclined to do stupid things."

"I can't imagine how you do it.  I have a single brother inclined toward that, and I," he broke off, glancing toward the hospital room again.

"It certainly gets no easier," Ori said faintly.

"I should...I should check in with Boromir."

Ori nodded. "One of us will keep watch," he said. "One way or another until we know how this ends."

"Thank you," Faramir said, offering him a ghost of a smile.

"Most people would just find that alarming."

"Most people didn't have their brother shot in a drive-by this morning."

"I suppose not," Ori said, shoulders hunching slightly.

Faramir sighed quietly, "Ori, I...take care of yourself."

"At least I'm better at that than some people," Ori said, looking up and down the hall and pushing himself up when he saw Bofur approaching. Faramir paused, slipping into Boromir's room before he had to interact with anyone else.

Bofur glanced past Ori toward where Faramir disappeared before offering Ori a weary smile that didn't meet his eyes, "How are they doing?"

"Boromir's awake and I quite angered Faramir," Ori shrugged. "As well as can be."

"And you?" he asked, looking down the hall.

"I'm here," Ori said after a pause. "And I guess right now that's enough."

Bofur turned back to him, a faint frown creasing lines between his eyebrows, "Isn't much."

"No," Ori agreed and twined their fingers together before dropping his hand. "But it will get better."

Pausing for the briefest of moments, Bofur reached out and touched one of Ori's braids, "It most certainly will."

Ori gave him a quick smile and knocked their shoulders together. "I told Faramir one of us would stay, at the least, to look after Boromir."

"It's a good idea, all things considered," Bofur agreed.  "We'll need to get the Shirelings home too."

"They're in with him," Ori said, leaning against the wall.

Bofur sank into one of the chairs by Ori, nodding, "Good."

"Maybe when they come out," Ori said, exhausted as he slumped over.

"The hospital will make most of us go home at some point," Bofur pointed out.

"We can see if someone else wants to come when we take them home," Ori said, sounding like he was about to fall asleep. "You still have the car?"

Bofur nodded, "Sit down and rest for a bit, Ori.  We'll take them home soon and see if we can get someone else to take over for the night."

"I thought today was going to be bad enough for enough others reasons," Ori muttered.

"Well, it hasn't been calm for those reasons either.... But Boromir's healing, the Shirelings are safe, and the first day of the trial seems to have gone well enough."

"Let's double check that when we get home," Ori laughed.

Bofur offered him a grin, "I get to be optimistic until we hear otherwise."

"I'm glad someone is," Ori said. "Or we'd be so depressed no one could function."

"I'm more'n willing to be the optimist, though there are days where I wonder how we all manage functioning anyhow."

"Magic," Ori said, waving a hand and Merry and Pippin walked out, still looking shell shocked. "Come on," Ori said, rising. "Let's go home."


End file.
